ffliuigtrtj uf tjjF Senatiful. 



THE MINISTRY 

OF 

THE BEAUTIFUL. 



HENRY JAMES'SLACK, F.G.S., 

OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE. 



Thxas was Beauty sent frcm Heaven, 
The lovely mini stress of truttL and good 
In this dark world. 

As:enside . 



LONDON: 
RICHARD BENTLE\-, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 



London; 

Printed by S. & J. Benti_ey and Henry FI;Ey, 
Ban^^or House, Shoe Lane. 



TO THE 

REV. HENRY CHRISTMAS, M.A., F.R.S., F.S.A., 

LIBRARIAN AND SECRETARY OF SION COLLEGE, 

ETC., ETC. 

IN GREATER AFFECTION FOR 
HIS FIRM AND GENEROUS QUALITIES AS A FRIEND, 

THAN ADMIRATION FOR 
HIS SPLENDID TALENTS AND EXTENSIVE LEARNING, 

THE FOLLOWING PAGES ARE 

Betrtratetr 

BY HIS Cousin, 

THE AQTHOR. 



PREFACE. 



However great may be the store of 
facts which human observation and ex- 
perience have collected, the leading ideas 
extracted from them are both simple and 
few. These are, for the most part, very 
incompletely miderstood if presented only 
to the reasoning faculties, and the little 
that can be comprehended in this manner 
often exerts a mischievous effect by suggest- 
ing or encouraging very erroneous notions 
of man's nature and destiny. Whatever 
may have been the case in past ages the 



viii PKEFACE. 

superstitions of present or recent time pre- 
sent few qualities of a redeeming character ; 
while a gross utilitarian materialism charac- 
terizes too many insurgent minds. There 
are evidences in the existing state of society 
of an earnest and increasing desire to cor- 
rect these defects, and to avoid falling 
into the error of building faith upon the 
fallacy of authority, or of supposing that 
a man has fulfilled the duties of self-educa- 
tion when he has managed to believe very 
little, and taken care that little should be 
of an apparently reasonable description. 

The following pages are an attempt to 
present some of the truths which form the 
basis of our philosophy, in their character 
of verities of the imagination and the heart 
as well as of the intellect. The contro- 



PREFACE. 



ix 



versial element has been carefully avoided, 
not that the author supposes many things 
that he has advanced to be incapable of 
dispute, but because such a process would 
be evidently unsuited to the design of the 
book. 

Every faculty of the human mind has 
its own laws of belief, and truth can be pre- 
sented to our sympathies as well as to our 
reason, and when viewed under such an 
aspect it is felt rather than known^ and 
is not in a proper state for discussion. 
When truths are thus objects of feeling, 
their beauty becomes apparent, and the 
Ministry of the Beautiful,'*' as endeavoured 
to be set forth in the following pages, 
consists chiefly in its omnipresent power 
of stimulating the fancy and the heart 



X 



PEEFACE, 



to join the intellect in adoration of the 
good and true. 

As external objects exert a principal ac- 
tion in exciting our faculties, natural scenery 
has been made to form the ground- work of 
the reflections that are presented to the 
reader. In these the Author has performed 
no process of manufacture, but has freely- 
told out the thoughts and feelings that have 
been suggested to his own mind by the 
scenes described. The conversational form 
was chosen partly for the sake of exhibiting 
some of the modifications of impression pro- 
duced by difference of sex, and partly be- 
cause it seemed adapted to that discursive- 
ness of thought, that was essential to the 
writer's plan. 

The subjects treated of range over some 



PREFACE. 



xi 



extent, comprising matters with which every 
thinker and moderate reader will be more 
or less familiar, — they relate to physical and 
metaphysical science, and, to some extent, to 
theology. 

The Author makes no claim to novelty 
or originality in the leading ideas brought 
forward ; he believes they will be found in 
the best writers of all ages, and if the same 
thought occur in more than one of the Con- 
versations, he hopes the connexion will give 
sufficient variety to prevent the tedium of j 
repetition. 

The idea of the book was suggested many j 

I 

years ago, by reading Sir Humphrey Davy's j 
Last Days of a Philosopher ; and the Author j 
is glad to confess large obligations to the 
writings of Sir Thomas Brown. The Songs 



xii 



PREFACE. 



which are interspersed have been set to very 
beautiful music, by Mr. William Thorold 
W ood, the composer of the " People's An- 
them," and it is to be hoped that he will 
shortly publish them. With these remarks, 
and the hope that while nothing in the fol- 
lowing pages can do any one any harm, there 
may be found something fitted to help earnest 
inquiring minds in their search after truth, 
the book is commended to such readers as 
it may find. 

23, Stockwell Park Road, Brixton. 
June, 1850. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 



:IRSAT10N 


I. 




1 


n 


II. 


Footsteps on the Saxd 


21 




III. 




37 


jj 


IV. 


Spring-time on the West- 










53 


9i 


V. 


A Journey by Night .... 


72 


J9 


VI. 


A Quarry among the Hills 


89 


?9 


VII. 


Druidical Remains 


107 


J) 


VIII. 




127 


59 


IX. 




143 


59 


X. 




157 


55 


XI. 


A Winter Landscape .... 


173 


55 


XII. 


A Great City at Night . . 


191 


55 


XIII. 


A Rocky Lane in Summer 209 


55 


XIV. 




229 


J5 


XV. 




249 



b 



CONVERSATION 1. 



THE 

MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



CONYEESATIOX 1. 




Edith, Lyulph. 

DITH. Let us go 
down the ravine, which 
leads to the sea-shore, 
and sit in the cavern 
where the graceful ferns 
hang from the roof^ the walls 



stones 



\ ^ glittering with many-colour- 
ed spar, and rich with a 
5^ thousand tints of moss 
-IS^^^and lichen. It seems 
^ a bower built by the 
Genii of flowers and 
for ocean spirits. It is a sacred place 



4 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



i 

i 



where revelations must come to those who 
stand and wait with a pure heart and patient 
spirit. 

Lyulph. Better choice could not be made. 
I love caverns of all kinds, from those gloomy 
recesses which seem the fitting abodes of 
beings to vrhom dark and fearful powers 
belong, to those exquisite forms where the 
awful, the beautiful, and the joyous are so 
mysteriously blended as in that which thou 
hast chosen. Justly hast thou said it is a 
place for the soul to receive revelation. The 
Universal Spirit makes its presence strongly 
felt in caverns, and unfolds new views 
of religion and philosophy to prepared 
minds. 

E. How like a fitting prelude to a won- 
drous strain of harmony does this glen lead 
to the wild and cavernous shore ! It is as 
an approach to a temple. See how the 
sloping sun purples the craggy tops of its 
steep sides, how bright is the heaven above, 



A DIVINE DEEAM. 



0 



and what comparative darkness in the deep 
gorge we tread ! 

L, There is indeed hght above ; but see ! 
how amid the gloom the httle torrent, with 
all its haste, reflects the radiance of the 
sky. 

E. So in an evil world do good souls, 
even in the busiest turmoil, catch some light 
from above and make heaven visible by 
reflection in the dark places of earth. j 

L, The worlds of matter and of spirit are 
full of such analogies. Indeed matter is only 
Divine thought, ^dsible and tangible to human 
sense. 

E. Is it not then real ? Is earth and all j 
that it contains but a vision — a dream ? | 

L. A Di\dne dream is more real than a | 
human work. With ourselves to think is to | 
be. The thoughts of God are the facts of 
the universe ! 

-E. Hence comes the nobility of science, 
which is an interpretation of the Divine. 



6 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



L. It is ; and they see but a little way 
into the mysteries of Nature, to whom the 
work is not that of the prophet and the 
priest. 

E. Why prophetic ? 

L, Did you not say the cavern to which 
we are going was a place of revelation ? 
To receive such is the function of the 
prophet. 

E, See how a sudden turn of the path 
has placed the great ocean before us. 

Z. Infinity is before us, manifested by 
its grandest type. 

E. How suddenly it comes upon us. 
We were near it, but it was neither 
felt nor seen. As we tread the path of 
life, with equal suddenness comes the view 
of that primeval ocean eternity, established 
an infinity before one drop of this world's 
water was created, and destined to exist 
for an infinity after all traces of its existence 
have passed away. 



THE EYES OF FAITH. 



7 



L. To man only does anything pass 
away. To the creating mind and to such 
as can approach sufficiently near it, is one 
eternal present. Outward forms addressed 
to our organs pass away, and we pass away, 
but the idea, the reality remains. 

E. It seems as though in mortal life, 
we behold only images and reflections. It 
remains for immortality to exhibit reali- 
ties, as they are. 

L, The wisest of us, which is the holiest, 
see somewhat by the eyes of faith. 

E. I cling to the mortal, and yet long 
for immortality. 

Z. Say rather, you are immortal, and 
long for the extension of faculties which 
are infinite. 

jE. Eternity has an intense, absorbing 
attraction, but not all the joys of heaven 
could stifle the regret which would belong 
to leaving and losing one flower of earth. 

L, None will be lost, they have passed 



8 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

away, and will pass away from human, 
mortal vision; as the elements which built 
them up assume other forms. 

Two existences are blended, the physical 
and the transient, the metaphysical and 
eternal; the first alone is mortal. To im- 
mortal eyes, earth'^s earliest flowers yet 
bloom, and the first beam of new-created 
stars yet shines in the eternal heavens, 
and will shine long after the physical have 
ceased to exist. 

E. These things are paradoxical, but I 
feel them true : that which seems to con- 
tradict reason, is constantly most plain to 
faith. 

L, You said rightly seems to contradict 
reason, nothing unreasonable can be true ; 
but man often imagines that opposed to 
reason which is above it. The sceptic de- 
nies the realities of faith, as the blind 
might deny the beauty of colour, or the 
deaf the harmony of sound. 



IMMORTAL LIFE. 9 

E. We have almost reached the shore. 
See down what rugged rocks the stream 
precipitates itself to join the ocean. 

L. Its race is run, and now with a 
triumphant exulting death, it passes to an 
infinite home. 

E. Death ! I see only fresh-bursting 
joyous life. 

L, When good men die, spirits as much 
above them as you are above this stream, 
behold no death but new-born and immortal 
life. 

E, I should like to begin the immortal 
now, before death. 

L. You have done so, you are a dweller 
in eternity, and have immortality within. 

E, How ? 

L, From earliest childhood, rather should 
I say infancy, you had — all have more or 
less — glimpses of the eternal. You have 
had thoughts, feelings, and aspirations, 
twining themselves about the everlasting, 



10 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

too good to die. With the first of such 
you entered the precincts of the immortal, 
and the more they increased, the further 
you advanced into that ever-abiding land. 

E. I feel that is indeed true. I am, 
we all are, at once mortal and immortal, 
inhabitants of time, and dwellers in eter- 
nity. 

L. Man has two lives, one grovelling, 
and one aspiring : two homes, a squalid 
hovel, and a gorgeous palace. 

E, Would that he always aspired, and 
dwelt in the nobler one ! 

Z. To do so always, will be the im- 
mortal lot of those who reach the perfection 
of their being. Meanwhile there is the 
choice how most of their time is passed. 
Mortal progress, and, for ought we know, 
part of immortal progress also, is accom- 
panied by occasional retrogression, just as 
when the ocean-tide flows towards the 
shore, many waves fall behind their pre- 



man's perfection. 



11 



decessors, but the majority advauce, and 
the appointed goal is reached. 

E. But when man's nature is fully and 
properly developed, his progress will be 
ceaseless, steady, and brilliant, like the 
planets in their courses on, on, for ever.'' 

L, True, because perfection is continuous 
advance. 

E, Now we are in the cavern, what 
does it say to us ? 

L. Let us stand and w^ait. 
{After a pause,) 

E. Hear how the wind wafts the sound 
of the waves into the cavern, whose echoes 
seem to hold converse with the ocean ; see 
how the rocks glisten with rainbow colours 
as they catch the beams of the descending 
sun, and how the soft shadow of the grace- 
ful ferns w^ave gently, as the breeze stirs 
the leaves, and the drops that fall from 
the roof glisten like coloured gems, and 
make melody when they strike the deep 



12 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

green pool below, which, with the varied 
hues and exquisite forms of coralHne and 
sea-weed, seems an Eden garden for the 
creatures that dwell therein. Is it not as 
if all the elements were taking sweet counsel 
together ? 

{Edith sings ;) — 

I. 

Oh ! many- voiced sea, 
I pray thee tell me, 

What thou art saying 
To the clouds and the caves, 
With thy rippling waves ? 

II. 

Oh ! sunlight and sky, 
Gentle hreeze passing by, 

What are you saying 
To cave, drop, and fern. 
Which speak in return ? 

III. 

Oh ! mosses and maidenhair, 
Seaweed and crystal clear. 

What are you saying 
To the sun, and the sea, 
I pray you, tell me 1 



NATUEE THE REYEALER. 13 



L. They are all true apostles, saying 
all things to all men who listen in faith. 
They speak a truly universal language 
which the wise, with more or less dis- 
tinctness, have understood in all ages, and 
in part translated into the language of 
men. 

Hence so much of poetry and philo- 
sophy in the world. 

Z. It is in vain for man to isolate him- 
self in his chamber, and endeavour to ex- 
cogitate truth. It is not to be thus attained. 
Let him go to Nature, the great revealer, 
patiently wait her teaching, and then tell 
out with what distinctness he can, the lesson 
he has learnt. 

jE. Art is only a hieroglyphic, or sacred 
language, in which noble thoughts should 
be expressed. 

Z. So does the artist aspire towards 
the Creator. The manifestations of art are 
like the productions of Nature ; for it has 



14 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

been wisely said, Nature is the Art of 
God. 

E. With what divine art is this glorious 
cavern constructed ! 

L, It is, indeed, an abode of beauty in 
many forms ; how richly the roof is fretted 
with curious work ; how varied the hues 
of spar and moss w^hich make the walls 
glow so brightly in the golden light. 

E, Is it not like a monument of ancient 
art ? Does it not tell of the times of old ? 

L. It is a memorial of distant ages ; pos- 
sibly within the human era, the winds and 
the waves may have hollowed it out, but 
its foundations were laid when strange and 
uncouth creatures inhabited our globe. For 
aught we know it may have been their 
dwelling-place. 

E, How strange to think of a world so 
full of beauty^ and no being living upon it 
to appreciate its loveliness. 

L. Nature is prodigal of beauty, it is 



THE PEEADAMITE WORLD. 



15 



and has been from the beginning an omni- 
present thing ; it was on the earth in a thou- 
sand forms before man was there, and is now 
on the earth in places where his footstep 
never trod, 

E. If unseen of man, it may be gazed 
upon with admiration by other beings per- 
haps more exalted than he. 

L. It may. We know not with whom 
we share the globe. But if no created eye 
beholds the flowers which unfold their petals 
in distant and unknown lands, or if none 
observed the loveliness of a preadamite 
world, nothing has been lost, the basis of 
their beauty was a divine idea, and thought 
is triumphant over decay and time. 

jE. It seems to me as though caverns 
told stories of the past, while the ocean 
speaks of the eternity which is to 
come. 

L, Such is also the impression on my 
own mind ; the ocean is ever active, to some 



16 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

the emblem of inconstancy, but more truly 
to others of stability, the same from age to 
age, while the solid earth has been melted, 
crushed, shivered to atoms, changed again 
and again. The ocean is a true type of 
Nature's permanence, which is ceaseless, but 
defined change. 

E. Is there no rest ? 

L, Harmonious motion is divine repose. 

E, The cavern leads us to the past, and 
the ocean to the future. How readily do 
we obey the voice of either and forsake the 
present. 

L. Rather out of the past and future do 
we make a present. Sufficient unto the day 
is the evil thereof, but not the good. To 
magnify our now we ransack a double 
eternity. 

E, And wisely ; for without it how 
grievous would be the burdens of time, and 
how beggarly its joys ! 

L, In divine being the past and the future 



HOPE AND SUFFERING. 



17 



are with the present, and man as he advances 
is able to take possession of a double in- 
heritance. The strong mingling of the past 
and the future with the present raises human 
life above brute existence. 

E, It is the source of deep suffering and 
gorgeous hope. 

L. It seems a constant plan of Nature's 
to build exquisite structures with worthless 
and often loathsome materials ; the brilliant 
plant and the phosphorescent light spring 
from rottenness ; and among the decay of 
expectations and the mangled relics of hap- 
piness, hope blossoms and shines at once a 
flower and a star. 

E, What changes the rocks composing 
this cavern have witnessed and survived ! 

Z. The materials composing them accu- 
mulating for ages in the bed of some primeval 
sea, raised to the surface by movements of 
elevation, contorted and bent by volcanic 
convulsions, cracked in various directions, 

c 



18 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



the fissures filled with melted matter, which, 
consolidating, took the more or less perfect 
crystalline form we now behold. Here is a 
tale of ages of change and convulsion ; but 
evidence is not wanting of permanence and 
abiding law. The elements composing these 
stones combine now in precisely the same 
proportions as they combined in the be- 
ginning, and when any assume a crystalline 
structure, they build up precisely the same 
forms now, as when matter first obeyed the 
attracting influences upon which they depend. 
Destruction, renovation, change under de- 
fined law were means employed of old, and 
still lead onwards to the development of one 
great plan, which at once is, has been, and 
is to be. 

E, Everywhere is the infinite — we are 
in it and it in us. Happy are they who 
catch some glimpses of what they are, and 
whither they are going. 



CONVERSATION II. 



COXVEBSATION 11. 



Scene. — A Seashore^ with sands^ rocks^ and 
lofty headlands. 

Lyulph. It is a pleasant feeling to be the 
first to walk on sands which the tide has 
just left. It is like being the first to visit 
a new land. It produces a freshness of sen- 
sation something akin to that of early morn- 
ing, or of spring. It is like entering upon a 
new stage of life, having a new world before 
us from which to receive, and upon which to 
make impressions. 

Edith, Footsteps on the sand ? 

L, Man''s impress on the earth. 

E. I hope that is more enduring. 



22 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

L. Where is Babylon or Thebes ? 

E. They exist in history and song ; but 
the tracks we now make will be wholly 
obliterated by the coming tide. 

Z. Probably they may, but similar traces 
have endured for ages, and apparently the 
most transient memorials have survived 
towers and temples, polities and religions. 

E. What mean you ? 

L, I speak of the fossil footsteps found 
in sandstones, which are among the most 
startling of the globe's antiquities. 

E. I know not why footsteps should 
make so deep an impression on the imagina- 
tion ; but those you speak of must exercise a 
strange fascination. I do not think that any 
fragments of the creatures themselves would 
produce so strong an effect. 

Z. Fossil bones tell of existence only, 
footsteps speak of action. 

E, The mind is at once startled and 
delighted, — we seem to be brought into in- 



NATURE'S MYSTERIES 



23 



timate contact with those early beings ; 
u'onder is most strongly excited at the 
magical permanence given to that which 
seems in its nature so transient, and the 
mysterious manner in which we are thus 
carried into the presence of the past. 

Z. There is, indeed, mystery in Nature's 
working. How often are stupendous results 
achieved by apparently inadequate causes, 
the strong confounded by the weak, the 
wise by the simple ; and here is a monument 
of the frailest kind formed ages before the 
creation of man, mocking all his efforts to 
establish lasting memorials in the most 
durable materials. 

It is a miracle how they have sur- 
vived. 

Z. The Universe is one great miracle, 
and with slow steps do we comprehend 
some of the infinite variety of effects which a 
few simple laws are competent to produce. 
Wonderful as the preservation of these foot- 



24 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



steps may appear, it is easily understood, 
nothing more is required than that they 
should be rapidly covered up with a thin 
coating of marl and fresh sands superimposed. 
In after ages, when the soft sands have 
become sand-stones, and are elevated above 
their former level, the stones split wherever 
a layer of a different material occurs,"* 
and thus man may tread on the very steps 
of an earlier world. 

E, It is something like men thrown on 
a desert island, finding traces of former in- 
habitants. A footstep under . such circum- 
stances must be at once comforting and 
sad. 

L. If there is satisfaction in belonging 
to an ancient race, and dwelling in habita- 
tions which have sheltered our ancestors for 
many generations, is there not also a deep 
feeling of pleasure in knowing that our globe 
is no novelty in creation, but has been for 

* Ansted's Geology. 



OCEAN MELODIES. 25 

myriads of ages the abode of creatures analo- 
gous to those at present mhabiting it, hold- 
ing and enjoying life upon the same con- 
ditions ? 

E. I think I have heard of ripple marks 
being preserved as well as footsteps. 

L. They have, and make us almost hear 
the murmur of those early waves. 

E, How suggestive are certain forms, of 
sounds ! Even in this calm we can scarcely 
look at those rocks and headlands without 
thinking of the thunder of the waves upon 
them in a storm. 

L, How grandly pre-eminent above all 
other sounds are those of ocean ! 

E. They seem to fill the soul with the 
noblest of all music, that in which multi- 
tudinous melody makes the richest harmony. 

L. The nearest approach to it is the 
sound of forest leaves, when stirred by the 
evening breeze. 

E, But how different is the effect of 



26 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



stormy gales ; the forest creaks and groans 
as though fearful of the blast, while the 
ocean seems to exult in the exercise of sur- 
passing power. 

L. I know nothing more exciting than 
a storm at sea ; how resistless an appeal to 
the energies of the brave. If matter which is 
dead, inanimate, can do so much, what shall 
man do with mind, with a soul !— When the 
elements rage, man should soar above them 
and aspire to be their ruler. 

E, And yet after the most heroic re- 
sistance, how often he must perish ! 

L. The elements which are physical, 
claim that portion of him which belongs 
to them, and at last with resistless power ; 
but the soul, created before they had their 
being, will survive their fall. 

E. Mean you to state the pre-existence 
of man ? 

L, Physical science teaches that in the 
beginning each globe was weighed, and that 



THE DIYINE SOUL. 



27 



through all changes not a particle has been 
added or taken away throughout the stellar 
universe. All soul existed from the begin- 
ning in the Divine soul ; all individuality 
which is, has been, or will be, had its pre- 
existence, has its present existence in creative 
being. 

E, If we tarry a little while, we shall 
behold a sunset on the ocean, — a sight worth 
traversing a kingdom to see. 

L. There could not be a finer place for 
it than this wide bay, bounded on either 
hand by rugged rocks and beetling cliffs. 

jE. How finely the sands glow in the 
amber light, what a beautiful purple gleams 
on the crests of the tiny waves ! 

L. The mixture of purple, gold, white, 
and grey, is most magical and unexpected. 

E. The colours have changed as if by 
the moving of a fairy wand. 

Z. The thin mists and clouds are tra- 
versed by the solar rays at diminishing 



28 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



angles, and their passage through varying 
thicknesses of vapour in different states pro- 
duces the variety. Were it not for water 
in the world, light could not display one 
tithe of its beauty. The remotest star 
whose beams reach our globe would shine 
with a very diminished splendour did a per- 
fectly dry atmosphere surround a parched 
world. 

E, One universal tint of clear deep blue, 
is very beautiful for a time ; but I should 
not like to dwell in a cloudless land. I 
hope clouds will not be banished from any 
" Islands of the blest,''' to which my soul 
may roam. 

L, Nor do I desire a perpetual day. 
Even were I capable of unceasing action, 
did my frame need no repose, I should 
still long for morning, noon, and night, with 
the alternation of sensation and emotion, to 
which they give rise. 

E, It is delightful to think that even a 



ANTIQUE FAITH. 



29 



light stream of vapour on earth's surface, 
should strengthen the connection between 
distant worlds. On a clear night, when the 
heavens are full of transparent moisture, 
with what moving living brilliance the stars 
and planets shine ! It seems as though their 
spirits were descending to hold converse with 
men. 

Z. Such nights in a wide wild country, 
almost restore the astrologer's antique faith. 
The science of our own day has disproved 
much, and the sceptical spirit has denied 
more ; but times are not wanting, when, to 
imaginative minds, the stars assert their 
influence on the affairs of men. All existence 
is bound together by chains of mutual sub- 
servience. Independence, which would be 
isolation in a creature, does not exist. 

E. How much of the thoughts of the 
present day, of its religion and philosophy, 
is derived from the starlight, which fell ages 
ago upon the plains of Palestine ! 



so MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



L. Concerning those orbs, what revolu- 
tions have taken place in human opinion ! 
they have been deities, subordinate rulers 
of destiny, — mere candles of night, — their 
spiritual influence exaggerated, denied; but 
they have gone on quietly shining in their 
eternal spheres contributing in grateful and 
thankless times to man's happiness and 
advancement. 

E. See, the sun''s orb now touches the 
distant wave ; it seems a bridal between light 
and ocean — a happy union of fire and its 
great antagonist. It is no quenching of its 
splendour ; but a retirement into a bridal 
chamber, whose closing portals shut out 
vulgar gaze, while the rich after-tints are 
like an ample largesse bestowed upon an 
admiring crowd. 

L, Now Twilight steps across the wave, 
spreading her thin grey veil over all the 
scene. This is a witching time by the sea. 
Sharp outlines are melted into air, a living 



THE ORGANIC AND INORGANIC. 31 

moviDg character is given to inanimate 
objects. 

E. It is a thrilling time, not unmixed 
with terror. Look at yon headland : does 
it not seem like a huge monster, with gigantic 
head resting on folded paws, a creature fit 
to start into fearful action in the fabled 
twilight of the gods ? 

L. It will not await that period to sate 
its ravenous maw ; many a gallant ship and 
crew will be swallowed there. These times, 
with their strange combination of colour, 
light, and shade, establish a connection be- 
tween the living and the inorganic worlds ; 
we scarce know where life ends and mere 
physical powers alone have sway, j^r v^^^ 

E. They are hours which make one feel 
the omnipresency of spirit. We cannot won- 
der at superstition, which is faith wandering 
in a twilight, when the torch of reason has 
not been kindled for its guidance. 

L, Man is now living in a physical seep- 



32 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



tical state, removed from that contact with 
Nature which is essential to fervid faith. 
It has been among deserts, by the ocean, on 
mountain tops, in caverns or wide-stretched 
plains, remote from his fellow-man, that 
poets, philosophers, and statesmen, have ob- 
tained that faith by which they triumphed 
in the end, even though martyrdom was 
their road. The action now going on is, to 
a great extent, destructive ; old belief is being 
rooted from the earth, doubtless to prepare 
it for an ampler and nobler harvest, the seeds 
of which are even now being sown. 

E. Man resides awhile in the house of 
unbelief, in order that the mansions of faith 
may be furnished anew. 

L, We must hope the ceaseless grinding 
of commercial elements to which he is now 
exposed, will one day evolve a brighter des- 
tiny, when he will have leisure to place him- 
self in confiding contact with the abiding 
realities of Nature. Earthquakes and vol- 



LIGHT AXD DARKNESS. 



S3 



canic storms, precede periods of flourishing 
peace, turmoil is a prelude to repose, de- 
structive agitation leads to lasting calm. 

E. So in Brahminical fable, good and 
evil spirits strangely joined together to churn 
the ocean, in order to procure the immortal 
Amreeta drink. 

L. Good and evil, light and darkness, are 
agents employed by One Power for one end ; 
man''s liberty, great and true as it is, is con- 
tained in Nature's necessity, and all elements, 
eontrarious though they seem, harmoniously 
combine for the realization of ultimate good. 

E, The twihght tints have left the sky, 
and night commences her watch over the 
world, high in the heavens is her taper 
lit, around which will soon glow a thousand 
kindred flames. 

L, I love to see one star alone in the 
sky 3 casting its track of light upon the water : 
does it not seem a path across the ocean for 
good spirits to traverse ? 



84 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



E, Yes, and a chain connecting heaven 
and earth. How strongly hght and Hfe are 
associated together, how closely do our feel- 
ings interweave themselves with the stars 
which seem part of the furniture of a beloved 
home ! 

L. Those who have journeyed to an- 
other hemisphere, leaving home, country, and 
friends, have well described their sensations 
at finding even the stars were changed. 

jE. It must be like losing the last me- 
morials of their native land ; but even if there 
should be cause for sorrow and gloom, if, as 
often happens, they were driven from the old 
world by misfortune and disappointment, and 
the loss of all familiar objects should give an 
impression of desolation, there would be con- 
solation and hope ; for the cross, the emblem 
of suffering and triumph, would beam upon 
them from the heavens in splendour and in 
peace. 



CONVERSATION III. 



CONVEESATION III. 



Edith, Let us go to the oak wood, in the 
gorge among the hills, and sit by the water- 
fall. 

Lyulph. Willingly, for it is a delightful 
place to pass a summer noon. 

E, They call this a barren land, and yet 
how full of beautiful vegetation is every spot 
on which the eye can rest ! Each stone has 
its mossy carpet, and wild flowers spring from 
every cranny among the rocks. 

L. Man's notion of barrenness is com- 
mercial; the most exquisite productions in 
the richest abundance do not redeem a coun- 
try from the charge, if it does not minister 



38 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

to his physical wants. I often thank God 
that there are wildernesses left, wild spots 
where profit has no dominion. I have little 
sympathy with an everlasting food factory. 

E. Yet you would not proscribe cultiva- 
tion, nor deny the beauty of rich harvests 
with their golden and green colour, and pro- 
mise both of employment and subsistence ? 

L. On the contrary, I wish agriculture 
to advance, and am deeply touched with the 
artistic as well as economic beauty of waving 
crops, with sunburnt reapers and thrifty 
gleaners, but still love to see some portion of 
the world let alone, where untamed nature 
can put forth those simple forms which yield 
such luxuriant harvests of suggestive thought. 
I love all waste and desolate places, where 
the everlasting idea of property does not 
intrude, and no human inventions seem to 
stand between man and Nature. 

E. Over-cultivation is destructive to the 
sublime. 



MOORS AND MOUNTAINS. 39 



L. Unless all its niceties are obscured, 
massed together by shadow and distance^ i 
as when a wide-stretched scene is viewed 
from a lofty hill ; but even that is a poor 
substitute for moor and mountain. 

E, I can well understand the enthusiasm 
of mountain tribes for their native home. 

L. How slow and heavy become the 
faculties of those whose life is passed in a 
region entirely devoted to cultivation. There 
is so little stimulus to exertion, to aspira- 
tion. 

E, Mountains, moors, and cities have 
developed the strongest patriotism, the in- 
tensest energy. 

Z. Similar results produced by contrasted 
means. Solitude, desolation and thronging 
crowds, exercising analogous power over the 
mind. 

E, And yet mountain tribes have seldom 
preserved in civilization the energy they 
showed in a savage state. 



40 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

L. Trade, commerce, manufactures, the 
agencies for developing civilization, belong 
rather to plains than to mountains ; but 
when civilized man adventures into the 
wild haunts of savage life, with what courage 
and determination he is filled. 

E, Did he not take those with him ? 

L. He took capacities for them, but 
how much activities depend on place ! Free- 
dom, indomitable perseverance to overcome 
obstacles, are most strongly felt in wild 
regions. Mountains, heaths, forests and 
rocky shores are the localities for impulsive 
life. 

E. But knowledge comes with cities. 

L. Such is their mission for good, but 
they have strong tendencies to mischief, 
and sordid calculating conventionality des- 
troys fine emotions. 

E, The world is wide enough for cities 
and wildernesses also, and we must hope 
that the progress of locomotion and other 



EEGENERATION. 



41 



appliances will bring both influences to bear 
upon, and jointly contribute to the regene- 
ration of mankind. 

L, I believe they will. The beginning 
of wisdom was among the wilds of Asia, 
and it is most wonderful to think what 
grand ideas entered the minds of the shep- 
herds of those antique plains. It was the 
inspiration of Nature, to which we must 
return after all our inventions. 

jE. But the sojourn in a working, striving 
world will have had its utility. Cultivated 
man will learn more from Nature than the 
rude savage. 

L. When the cultivation has not been 
perversion. Regeneration is the grand thing. 
Man as an individual, as a race, must cast 
aside his prejudices and supposed philosophy, 
become again a child, and learn to wonder 
and adore. 

E. The simplicity of the second child- 
hood is higher than that of the first. 



42 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL, 



L. The first is vacuity, freedom from 
positive evil, the second is wisdom, strong 
yearning towards that which is good. 

E, How delightful it is to give way 
completely to natural influences, to present 
as it were one absorbing assimilating surface, 
and like some of the lowest tribes of ani- 
mals take in nutriment at every pore. 

L. To learn to be passively recipient is 
a wonderful lesson. 

E, We must now follow the winding 
of the stream, and shall soon enter the oak 
wood. What a little joyous energy it seems, 
leaping and flashing from rock to stone. I 
love these little torrents; they bear the same 
relation to grave majestic rivers that playful 
childhood does to maturer age. 

L. What a contrast it is to the deep 
repose which at this season the noontide 
brings to other objects ! Day and night 
its bustling active race goes on, flowers grow 
on its banks, and often fling their leaves 



CAUSES AND EFFECTS. 43 

across its course in such profusion as to 
conceal it from the view ; but, seen or un- 
seen, it pursues its work insensibly yet surely, 
deepening its channel in the rock. The 
valley in which we walk is a monument 
of its labour, which took countless centuries 
to accomplish. Wonderful is the work per- 
formed by small streams, the capillary veins 
and arteries of the earth. Everywhere small 
causes are producing stupendous results ; 
whole continents built up by small coral 
polypes, and large valleys excavated by 
tiny rivulets. Perseverance and time triumph 
over the most gigantic obstacles. 

E. Now we enter the ancient wood. In 
what wild forms the gnarled and mossy 
boughs are twisted, what a sensation of 
sacred repose. We cannot wonder at the 
Druid's passion for the oak, and the re- 
verence paid to consecrated groves. 

L, The hill and the grove have exercised 
a strong influence on the religion and philo- 



44 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

sophy of all ages. Even when altogether 
secularized in the public mind, the antique 
rites abolished and proscribed, the new and 
triumphant faith has exhibited traces of the 
effect of both. 

E, Let us sit on this mossy stone, o'^er- 
canopied with thick branching trees and 
catching the refreshing breeze which springs 
from the waterfall. 

L. It offers a resistless invitation to re- 
pose. 

E, What a delicious combination of 
sounds, — the quiet hum of insect life, the 
gentle rustling of leaves through which the 
sunshine strays with interrupted light, and 
the rushing of the waterfall ! 

L, How beautiful it is to look up through 
green branches and catch glimpses of the 
deep blue sky, through which at intervals 
float fleecy clouds of dazzling whiteness ! 

E, How different is the repose of sum- 
mer noon from that of night ! 



SUSPENDED ENERGY. 45 



L, In both active energies are suspended, 
but in the former sensuous impressions are 
luxuriously received. The muscular system 
experiences a pleasing languor, and the reci- 
pient faculties are in a state of delicious action. 

E. Physical organism is the source of 
exquisite sensations. 

L, Men do not half value sensuous life. 
The sensualist brutifies and dulls the delicate 
organization on vt^hich it depends; the 
worldly man knows not its enjoyments, which 
are best felt by the purest and the wisest. 

E, You speak of a condition in which 
every nerve thrills in delicious sympathy 
with external nature. 

Z. It is a state in which all corporeal 
grossness seems lost, and every limb glows 
with the ecstasy of seraphic being. 

E. It seems an apotheosis of mortal 
passion. 

L, And, like other exalted conditions, 
a foretaste of immortality. 



46 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



E. If we listen to the sound of falling 
water what a strange thrilHng trickling sen- 
sation runs through the nerves. 

L. It is like an electrical aura, or the 
cool sensation seemingly radiated downwards 
from clear cloudless skies on summer nights, 
but much stronger than either. 

E, Is it not also like swinging rapidly 
through the air, but more languishing ? 

L. Such recurring sensations promote sleep 
and happy dreams. 

E. It is pleasant, as it were, to untwist 
the chains of this harmony, and follow 
the separate sounds as they grow more 
distant and indistinct. At first we hear 
the subdued roar of the waterfall as a fun- 
damental note, but patient listening de- 
tects its harmonic relations; the mass of 
sound flowing and receding as the breeze 
stirs. 

L. In such positions we think rather 
in sounds and colours than in words, for 



UNSPOKEN LANGUAGES. 



47 



language is not the only framework of 
thouo'ht. 

E, Is not the smell of forests delicious ? 
it seems to ascend like the smoke of in- 
cense. 

L. A natural offering, spontaneous, re- 
quiring no priesthood to kindle or wave its 
censers. 

E, I am sure such odours have command 
of an extended range of metaphysical emo- 
tion. They are full of suggestion. The 
burning of aromatic woods and gums is the 
only form of sacrifice one seems to regret. 
Clouds of incense floating through the aisles 
of a cathedral and mingling with the waves 
of sacred sound, certainly contribute to the 
elevation of the mind. 

Z. Natural religion is addressed to all 
faculties and powers ; hence it is partly sen- 
suous, while artificial religion is purely dog- 
matic. We must hope for the time when 
the opinions of the wise, the feelings and 



48 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



aspirations of the good, and the sensuous 
expressions of the artist will all unite in the 
ritual service of a nation's faith. 

E. I hope it will not be long before we 
see a revival of art. 

L. I hope not ; but many changes must 
first take place. Man must indulge in 
thoughts, feelings, and aspirations, which 
demand high art for their expression ; he 
must dwell more in emotional life, and less 
in external things. 

E. There are certainly symptoms of pro- 
gress. 

Z. There are, and important ones. Art 
is increasingly more requisite for decorative 
furniture and household implements. This 
will engender a familiarity with the beautiful 
to a sufficient extent to stimulate a higher 
appreciation. 

E. Art is far too much considered as 
property. Genius belongs to no country, but 
to the world ; and its productions should not 



YISTA OF THE FUTUEE. 49 



have tlieir influence bounded by selfish pos- 
sessiveness. 

L, No kind of possession entails more 
responsibility. 

E, Were the moral influences of a per- 
ception of the beautiful rightly perceived, 
what efforts would be made for its advance- 
ment ! 

L, There would. Many of them coarse 
and physical enough : societies for its pro- 
pagation at home and in foreign parts, 
resolutions and edicts. 

E, It is true that we trust far too much 
to mere mechanical, organic powers, instead 
of relying on mind and heart. 

L, The diflSculties before us are many 
and great, but doubt not they will be over- 
come. Let each one go to Nature as often as 
possible ; casting aside for a little while, at 
least, his worldly cares, let him go in con- 
fidence and faith, and he will not seek in 
vain. The vista of the future exhibits dan- 

E 



50 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



gers and difficulties, but at last triumph and 
peace. 

E, Just as we now behold in this wood 
deep shadows and tangled thickets, but can 
look beyond them and discern a spot, where 
the unclouded and unintercepted sun sheds 
its full radiance on the fragrant soil. 



CONVERSATION IV. 



CONVERSATION IV. 



Lyulph. How times and seasons are in 
concert ! Spring is suggestive of morning, 
summer of noon, autumn of evening, and 
winter of night. 

Edith, I like each best in turn. A little 
while ago I had a hearty welcome for Old 
Winter, when he came holding his icy fingers 
over the world, impressing all vegetation 
with mesmeric sleep ; and now my own soul 
seems budding and bursting into new life 
with every opening flower. It seems to 
wake with the busy bustling breeze, now 
here, now there, with the clear warm sun- 
light, and the changing clouds. 



54 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

Z. You are almost an elemental spirit. 

jE. I love them all. 

L. And in loving all, you are all. 

E, Is it not in the words of an old poet, 
^' the bridal of earth and sky ? " 

L. It is more, for it is a triple union 
in which the Ocean joins. With what re- 
sponsive lustre his broad face gleams, purple, 
green, and blue, dark lines of shade, regions 
of mist and brilliant light ! Sometimes the 
air makes the near things distant or invisible, 
and brings close remote objects. 

E, Even now, parts of the distant coast 
are so brightly lit, that buildings can be 
discerned, while the capricious clouds make 
the rest invisible. And then across the 
unbounded ocean, through what bands of 
sunshine, shadow, and varied colour the eye 
can reach. The craggy clilFs gleam with 
golden furze and bright green, in which thou- 
sands of wild flowers are hastening to unfold 
their leaves, the rocky pools in sympathetic 



SPRING-SONG. 



impulse glow with purple, green, and bro\v 
as the ocean plants obey the call of spring 
{Edith sings,) 

I. 

I've banished Winter, saith the Spring, 
Awake ! arise, ye flowers ! 

Brisk breezes blow, 

Bright sunshine glow, 
And rouse the young Year's powers. 

11. 

Rush up, ye larks, into the sky, 
Sing high, and wake the flowers ; 

Ye clouds, make haste, 

The earth needs taste 
Your fertilizing showers. 

III. 

Ye pretty birds, hop on each bush, 
And bid its leaves come out. 
Jackdaw and rook. 
With knowing look, 
Now wheel and fly about. 

IV. 

Pick up the grubs, and build your nests 
With so much noise and chatter. 
That when you 're heard, 
Both beast and bird 
Will wonder vvdiat 's the matter. 



56 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



V. 

Let hills, and banks, and rocky pools. 
Put on their bright array ; 
Its petals gold, 
Let furze unfold. 
To hail the joyous day. 

VI. 

From distant lands, I ^ve told fresh birds 
They must assemble here ; 

And o'er the sea 

They come to me, 
To taste the Spring's good cheer. 

VII. 

I order now that all the world 
Be active, up and doing, 
To win my favour, 
Useful labour 
Must come to me a-wooing. 

Z. Your song has in it the true moral 
of the season. It is indeed a time to be 
up and doing. How much more energetic it 
seems here on this wild coast than in places 
distant from the sea. The influence of ocean 
is strongly felt even by inanimate nature, and 
how different is a calm now to one in June. 



LABOUR AND REST. 



57 



It is rather cessation than repose, we feel 
the activity that has been, and is to come, 
more than a rest from work. 

E. Labour and rest always show their 
mutual relation ; both differ with the changing 
seasons, and with the varying periods of life. 

L. It is beautiful to trace the connection 
of times and seasons with those of external 
nature, and of human life. 

E, Is not Spring, boyhood, young man- 
hood, rather than infancy ? Does not the 
year seem to leap at once to the period for 
profitable energy, overstepping the helpless- 
ness of childhood. 

L, The birth of the year is more like 
a spiritual than a physical birth. It is the 
regeneration of the world. 

E. Spring is the natural commencement 
of the year, just as the first outbursting of 
emotion is the beginning of human life. 
That which precedes is only physical and 
animal existence. 



58 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



Z. Winter should not be considered as 
only negation and destruction. It is a 
secret and inward working of powers, 
which in spring will burst into visible ac- 
tivity. It is like the period of privacy 
and repose which has often preceded 
the public career of the leaders of man- 
kind. 

E. The expectant earth waits patiently, 
for the outpouring of celestial influences; 
so should the soul of man prepare itself to 
receive those of spiritual being, nor let one 
Pleiad minister in vain. When once the 
icy bands of Winter are unloosed, earth and 
sky seem to rush into active sympathy, 
flowers and stars hold communion, the eye 
of heaven beams with ardent and penetrating 
affection, and makes the world's bosom glow 
with responsive love. 

L. How readily does human love find 
all nature symbolic and suggestive. The 
external is ever the image of the internal ; 



DIVINE KNOWLEDGE. 



59 



and what thought scarcely touches, the 
affections possess. 

E. How w^ill the world be changed, 
when it is truly felt how much higher it is 
to love than to know ! 

L, Knowledge to be divine must be 
founded upon affection. Well hath it been 
said ''the Kingdom of Heaven cometh not 
with observation, for the highest good is to 
be felt, not seen. 

E. Does not Spring summon forth all 
the energies of impulsive being; is it not 
a season of intense aspiration and prevaihng 
energy ? 

L, It is indeed a time of aspiration and 
hope. A season when our work and its 
reward are before us ; when impulse glows 
at the bidding of suggestion, and action 
proceeds rather from feeling than from 
thought. 

E. In human life how sad it is when 
all spring-time is passed ! It seems to me 



60 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

that in the winter of age, there should still 
bud and blossom some flowers of spring- 
time and of youth. 

L. Man should suffer nothing good to 
pass away from his grasp. Addition of 
years should associate the virtues of infancy 
and of age, blending together in a moral 
harmony the serpent and the dove. 

E. It is a pure and beautiful sensation, 
to feel that throughout mortal existence, 
we are still in the infancy of our being. 

L. The physical alone grows old ; before 
the soul is an eternity of spring-time and 
of youth — youth at whose feet cycles of ages 
shall pour their treasures of wisdom and of 
truth — spring whose impulsive energies shall 
be felt through all the seasons of eternal 
being. 

E. That is a bad melancholy age, in 
which the feelings of earlier times have 
become obliterated and dead. 

L. We cannot grow truly old, without 



MATURE SIMPLICITY. 61 

remaining truly young. Life should be 
measured by time wisely employed, and 
not by periods unprofitably spent. He is 
the oldest who has thought and felt the 
deepest and the most. Spiritual age is 
determined by the acts which make the 
mornings and evenings of the soul, and not 
by the motions of the physical globe. The 
soul should have its own cycles and revo- 
lutions, presenting in turn every portion of 
its existence to the vivifying influence of 
the great source of light. 

E, What efforts should not woman make 
to preserve in maturity the simplicity of 
the child ! When that is lost, the sunlight 
of her being is sadly over-clouded, if not 
wholly gone. 

L. It is a common tendency to lose the 
beauty of childhood. When it is gone, the 
acquirements of subsequent time are vain, 
and before true advancement can be made, 
comes the necessity of being born again. 



62 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



E, It seems to me while we die daily, 
we should hourly be born anew. 

L, And thus accomplish the high des- 
tiny of being young in age, and old in youth. 
By the union of contrasted and apparently 
opposing elements advance is made. 

E. Are there not characters in the 
world, which resemble the seasons ? Some 
seem embodiments of spring, others flourish 
in perennial summer, some show the rich 
deep tints of autumn, and others only the 
crabbed harshness of winter. 

L. The analogy is true ; but while 
individuality demands one prevailing cha- 
racteristic, the worthiest are those who 
unite somewhat of the qualities of all. To 
be at once individual and universal is the 
perfection of being. 

E. Human lives should be like varied 
harmonies, each full of melodies, peculiarly 
their own, and all contributing to the eternal 
and divine music of unbounded existence. 



I 

1 

NEl^-BOEN FLOWERS. 63 



L. Look at that dark and jagged rock, 
how brilliantly the young vegetation which 
is covering its naked sides gleams in the 
sunhght. Is it not a child rejoicing in a 
mother's smile ? 

E, It is most beautiful. The new- 
born flowers cannot help opening their young 
eyes to its light and love. So bright, 
warm, soft, and interpenetrating should be 
the influence of maternal affection. It 
makes one's heart sad to think how many 
women are competent only for the lowest 
physical duties, to which an infant's birth 
give rise. 

L, In the ideal mother, the physical, 
the intellectual, and the sympathetic must 
all unite. Did purer affection and loftier 
aspiration preside over the birth of fresh 
human life into the world, a brighter era 
would arise than genius has yet predicted 
that the future will unfold. Woman has yet 
to learn her nature and its powers. Man 



64 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



has yet to learn what woman is, and to 
what she is destined. It is rather in eapa- 
biUties than in existences that humanity 
must be studied. The man of lofty thought 
and high feeling will find few women who 
approach the ideal ; but some there are 
whose influence is truly divine, and when 
such become mothers, the world, did it 
know their worth, would render homage, 
like the Magi to the Virgin and her Child. 

E. Before woman can advance, man 
must love her for the higher, not the lower 
faculties of her being. The latter suffice 
and are too much for the gratification of 
sensuality, and the duties of the housekeeper 
and the nurse ; but the former belong to 
the wife, the friend, and the mother. Let 
man go forward, and woman will not stay 
behind. How seldom does married life 
afford any scope for the finer feelings of 
woman'^s nature ! Many a young mind is 
chilled by biting frost in what should be 



BLIGHTED FLOWERS. 



65 



the spring-time of its life. How many a 
fine flower has unfolded its petals, expecting 
the sunshine and the breeze and been 
chilled by shadows and crushed by the 
storm ! The purest and noblest creations 
are often the gentlest, and if on their first 
development they meet with violence and 
neglect, they are like spring-blossoms nipped 
in the bud, and no after sunshine can bid 
them grow to perfect flowers. When a 
woman has unhappily linked herself with 
an unworthy man, the high aspirations and 
fervid affections in which she hoped to live, 
are insulted and crushed, the lio-ht of her 
life is gone, existence is a dreary waste ; 
she is like one who once had noble friends 
and loving kindred, but to whom now 
remains only the memory of the dead. 

L, The picture is unfortunately as true 
as it is dark. It is bad enough that so 
many human beings should be born, live, 
and die, without ever realizing any of the 



66 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



higher objects for which they are created ; 
but it seems worse to be thus elevated 
only to be cast down ; yet on reflection 
it is better, if for ever so short a time, 
and whatever suffering it may entail, to 
have felt something of the real meaning 
of life. Religion, art, poetry, and philo- 
sophy are all one, an exposition of the 
true, the beautiful, and the good. Let 
this great and Holy Trinity be worshiped, 
let truth be loved, beauty be felt, and good- 
ness understood, and a moral spring-time 
is at hand. It is by isolating that which 
Nature joins together that ignorance and 
vice have so much dominion in the world. 
Women have fine faculties to feel the beau- 
tiful and the true, and can do much to 
make them powerful influences. Religion 
is too often a superstition and aii external 
force, it needs to become a Divine impulse 
acting from within. In raising the tone 
of thought and feeling, in kindling lofty 



WOMAN'S MISSIOX. 



67 



aspirations, woman can strongly aid. Let 
her work for this object in power and in 
faith, constantly remembering Her whom 
the adoration of many, the love and vene- 
ration of all, have made the ideal of her 
sex, and enthroned for ever in the heavens 
and the heart. 



CONVERSATION V. 



CONYERSATION Y, 



A journey by night, 

Lyulph. Now we leave the town behind 
and penetrate the thick darkness. 

Edith. It is Hke entering the unknown 
world. 

L. We are surrounded by objects of 
whose existence we are unconscious. We 
feel the souFs dependence upon physical 
organs. 

E. But though darkness bounds our 
vision it cannot restrain the imagination. 
We can people the black desert with a 
thousand forms and fill the void of night 
with the creations of the soul. 



7l' iministkv or tiik wwmitwul. 

L. So, III Wiv l»(^i>imiiMi^', \\",iH imiv<^r.sal 
H|);i<'«' (llird Willi l)ivin(' l,li(ni|rlil,. 

I']. !>(> \vr iiol. l,li;i,(, iiion^ Mi.'ui |>Ijy- 

HM'.'ll ori^'IIIH 'AVr IhMMllul !,(> IvIMJVV Mir rc.'llll.K'M 
<>r rxiMiciKM^ ? 'V\\v l liirlvrsl, liii(lil, <\'iiiiiol, V(^il 
jJir Im?,'iu1 y ;iimI inyHl( ry of N;i,l,Nr(^ one l.riiUi 
|>;i,rl. MO <'ir(M-j,u;i,lly ;i,h ;i, low irioral hI;iI<;. 
I)iviii('mI. lonns in v;iiii jnrsciil. iJK^mscI vns 
l,o v.yvH wlioMr iiH'rli.'iniHiri <'onMmimc;ilM s \vi(,h 
no rrcijHrlll. HoilL 

pliysic.'illy \yv H(m^ wilJi Mi(> liLifht 
widilii. No mKliiL'iiioMS <>r IJhi niiI>1J(' (liiid 
would MudM-r^ (Ii<l ii<J, (lie, Imiui;iii or«*n,nism 
roiiLiiii lli(^ s.'iMK^ IIiimI (W<;r rrndy l.o in,'UMl'<\M(, 
.Mym|Ki(Ji(^l i<* vi!)r;i,l,i<mM. Miich moic is l liis 
Iriir ill Mm inor.'il .iiid inriil.d woilds -wilhiii 
miisl. Imi Mk^ Iic;iv< lis wiMi sun ;iiid sl-.irs, 
wliicli ."ilonr .'ire ;iL|(^ {a\ slird cllrclii;! I .Sj>l('ii 
dour on Mic ohjccls Mi;ii ;i,rr wiMmmiI,. 

11. Iir.'irniii<» (o Hrc^ is one of Mir lirsj, 
l(\MS(His of Mil'inry, :iiid ii, is n(^v(»r fnlly Jir- 
<jnii(Ml ; lor, in lliis lil'r, to sl(»|> hryond Mir 



THE TRUE WORSHIPER. 



78 



cradle is not given, even to the wisest of 
our race. 

L. How differently do w^e behold the 
simplest objects of nature ! What gradations 
from the lowest to the highest mode of vision 
— from the rude clown to the philosopher, 
the artist, the poet ! Even elementary sen- 
sation seems infinite in the knowledo-e it 
can convey. The highest man, gropes in 
gloom among regions which, to loftier being, 
would glow with resplendent light. 

E. Light and love seem omnipresent ele- 
ments, although we often lack the power to 
discern them. 

L. Those who love most know most. 
To the true worshiper Nature exhibits 
beauty and sublimity, while to the irreve- 
rent is barrenness and vacuity. Two men 
may live on the same spot, one dwelling 
in an Eden garden sparkling with fountains, 
odorous with the loveliest flowers, full of 
celestial sounds, while the other is in a 



74 MINISTHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

desert, the abode of "ancleanness and deso- 
lation. In proportion as a man develops 
beauty within, does he find it without, 

E. The human soul is as a seed sown in 
the world. It contains within, the germ of the 
flower and the leaf, but from without must 
come the means of nourishment and growth. 

L, Now we seem to have left a deep 
narrow lane and to have emerged into a 
wide open country. How delicious is the 
night breeze, bringing with it the feeling 
of unbounded extent ! 

E. It is a heath wind ; we scent the 
fragrant herbs. 

Z. How wisely the wild flowers select 
their home ! I would rather trust the fern, 
the wild thyme, or the hare-bell, than the 
forest tree to choose me a dwelling-place. 

E. The breeze is rich with perfume. 
The herbs and flowers hang their odours 
on the moist air like votive offerings in the 
temple of the Night. 



NIGHT OF THE SOUL. 75 

L, The feeling of adoration seems om- 
nipresent and ever linked with the beautiful. 
It may be said that they only understand 
beauty to whom it is a religion and a morale. 

E, The want of appreciation of the 
beautiful is one of the worst faults of our 
age. How few feel it, as it is, a manifesta- 
tion of the Divine ! 

L, Night is over many souls, but we 
are not without promise of the dawn. In 
the darkness is contained the light ready 
to become visible. See yonder faint rays 
probably from a lone farm. Some poor 
candle sends them forth, like children, into 
the wide world, sympathy gathers around 
them kindred light, and they are borne 
over field and heath, telling man how easy 
it is to irradiate gloom. 

jE. I often wonder whether light can 
manifest itself in other ways. Are our 
organs necessary for its perception ? 

L. It would seem that their connection 



76 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



with sensation, is not one of necessity. 
Many animals and plants are able to feel 
the light.* 

E, Beautiful as light is now, we cannot 
suppose ourselves acquainted with a thou- 
sandth part of its glory. We must wait 
until immortal organs lend their aid, before 
we can behold the full splendour of sun 
and star. 

Z. Infinity is everywhere. Those things 
which to us seem the meanest offer infinite 
knowledge ; and the objects with which we 
are now in contact, would employ an 
eternity fully to comprehend. It is wonder- 
ful to think that we are even now surrounded 
by invisible light; invisible to us, because 
certain vibrations are wanting or not in 
sufiicient intensity for us to see, but to 
many animals, and, for ought we know, to 

* It must be confessed that recent researches throw 
much doubt upon some instances that have been 
alleged. 



SPLENDOURS OF NIGHT. 77 



spiritual beings, night has its splendour 
analogous to, but different from, that of 
day. 

E. How the idea of antagonism vanishes ! 
Darkness and light are harmoniously blended. 
They are no opponents, but twin sisters. 
Darkness as an evil is a transient imperfec- 
tion of human existence. Promise always 
penetrates the gloom, and the hours of 
night continually proclaim, that the daylight 
is at hand. 

L. The feeling of extent, is even more 
fully given by darkness than by light. In 
daylight the visible horizon is soon reached : 
when stars appear, the eye roams through 
the remoteness of space, and when they are 
extinguished the imagination is free to 
traverse unbounded realms. 

E. It is as though night set free the 
soul and taught its independence of physical 
organization. 

L. Now we seem to enter a thick wood, 



78 MINISTEY OF THE BEiUTIFUL. 

our lamps show the outlines of gnarled trees, 
and we hear the rustling of branches growing 
fainter in the distance. 

E, The hour and the spot are fitted 
for magical rites. Be ours those of prompt 
fancy, at whose bidding the darkness is 
peopled with sylvan forms. 

L. It is as though we had the influence 
of a forest scene, its spiritual without its 
physical presence^ The idea, the sensation, 
is at once indefinite and strong, while the 
reality is scarcely known. The little 
the eye can discern, aided by what the 
senses can discover, makes us believe 
we are in a thick wood, although such 
may not be the case. Under such cir- 
cumstances suggestion takes the place of 
fact. 

E. *Now we revel in the regions of 
imagination, the severe realities of daylight 
might dispel all the enchanted forms by 
which we are surrounded, and leave only 



SIGHTS m DAEKNESS. 



79 



some poor common-place scene in their 
stead. 

Z. We summon, as it were, the disem- 
bodied spirits of a wood before us, and 
they would flee at the approach of morn. 
In darkness the mind appreciates rather the 
abstract idea, than the concrete reality. 

E. Darkness is all things to all men. 
To some it is filled with horrid forms of 
evil beings ; to others it is a simple vacuity, 
while there are those who people it, at will, 
with gorgeous and benignant shapes. In 
broad day some imiformity of sensation is 
compelled, but when night interrupts phy- 
sical vision, the mind beholds its own cre- 
ations in all their individual diversity. 

Z. So night which out-curtains the 
physical world, enables the spiritual world to 
grow more distinct, as a lamp shines brighter 
when the day-light is hid. Severed awhile 
from that which is without, the mind 
turns more strongly to that which is within. 



80 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



E, Among the servants of wisdom are 
darkness, silence, and repose. 

L, Well do they harmonize with, and by 
contrast exalt, the virtues of light, speech, 
and activity. Among shadows do we find 
the beauty of light, in silence the melody 
of speech, and to know the value of labour 
must seek it in repose. 

E, You might add that it remains for 
death to exhibit the glory of life. It was 
a beautiful superstition that of ever-burning 
lamps in tombs ; to seek for such, imaged 
well the practice of the Christian who be- 
holds immortality in the grave. 

L. By faith we behold eternity in time, 
light in darkness, life in death : infancy reveals 
omniscience ; weakness, omnipotence ; the 
finite, the infinite ; the transient, the eternal. 

E. We now emerge from the wood, 
and seem on high ground. In the valley 
beneath us are lights indicating a village ; 
beyond which and around us, is the sensa- 



NIGHT TRAVELLING. 81 



tion of an ample view. If you look fixedly 
at the darkness, it seems to mould itself 
into form, and hill and river, wood and 
plain, and scattered villages with towns 
and steeples present themselves to the mind. 

Z/. Travelling by night, the lights from 
human habitations excite vivid emotions of 
pleasure or desolation. To those who have 
home or friends it is a cheering sight, but 
to the unhappy, the desolate and the out- 
cast, the gloom is made deeper by contrast 
with a brightness to which they cannot 
approach. 

E, It is a beautiful sight, full of poetry, 
to see the bright light of some happy hearth 
streaming through the curtained window 
and piercing the darkness with its friendly 
gleam. The rays seem bound on a mission 
of love. Whither do they go ? 

L, To many a human heart, and where 
none such are present, doubtless they are 
not in vain, although they are like the star- 
es 



82 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



light that falls in the wilderness. It was 
not for man alone that light and darkness 
were created. 

E, How different is the action of day 
and night upon the soul. In day-time we 
investigate, but at night believe. 

L, In vain man builds an edifice of 
hard intellectual unbelief in which to dwell ; 
Night will enter it with unquiet terror, 
while to the mansions of Faith she brings 
calm repose. 

E, To those whose days are well spent, 
Night showeth knowledge, while Ignorance 
finds only a deeper gloom. 

Z. Dayhght stimulates us to seek infor- 
mation without, Night bids us find wisdom 
within. 

E. In day time we feel circumscribed 
and bounded ; Nature is external ; but at 
night imagination is able to make all things 
within, and we seem to learn something 
of spiritual existence. 



NEEDFUL ALTEENATIONS. 



83 



L. Were day perpetual, man would 
depend too much on physical organs, and 
forget that there were truths which these 
were unable to reach. Day and night with 
their influences are both needful in their 
alternation, and the wisest are they who 
with the exactitude of the former com- 
mingle the indefiniteness of the latter, and 
carry a little of the precision of day into 
the vagueness of night. It is most foolish 
to live in perpetual night where belief is 
neither founded upon, nor corrected by, 
investigation; or in perpetual day, where 
dry intellect is ceaselessly occupied in col- 
lecting facts upon which feeling and ima- 
gination are allowed to exert no vivifying 
influence. The human soul should receive 
from all directions and harmoniously weave 
together the filaments of truth which float 
like gossamer threads throughout the uni- 
verse. 

E, You have suggested ideas of the 



84 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



physical coexistence of day and night. May 
it not to perfect spirits be at once night and 
day? 

L. Assuredly. Nothing but the incom- 
pleteness of our senses prevents us from at 
once appreciating both. 

E, I think in the distance we can just 
see the lights of the town to which we are 
going ; they make one faint blaze above the 
horizon. 

L, It is as though the lights were an 
emanation from the mass of life beneath. 
It was a beautiful superstition, perhaps a true 
one — that of the luminous nature of the soul. 
Light with its kindred agencies is the most 
spiritual of physical existences. 

E, From this eminence we see the lights 
of many towns looking like Magellanic clouds 
or fragments of the Milky Way. 

L. In such dim but united form comes to 
us the wisdom of the past ; time operates like 
distance in forming Nebulae of scattered stars. 



A SLEEPING CITY. 



85 



E, Our town Nebulae begin to resolve 
themselves into separate lights, and dark 
forms of buildings begin to appear, massive 
towers dimly sever themselves from the sur- 
rounding gloom, and faint sounds are heard 
like murmurs of the distant sea. 

L, Of the lights some shine on evil 
deeds and some on good ; of the sounds, some 
are of strife and hatred, some of beneficence, 
some of joy, some of grief ; but all harmonize 
in the distance of space : and so in the moral 
world will all discord be united into harmony 
in the distance of time. 

E. A few minutes and w^e shall again 
be among the abodes of men. Although 
the night is advanced, they are yet up and 
doing ; but in a little while all business will 
cease. It awakens deep and sublime emo- 
tions to walk through a city, when its streets 
are empty, and its people sleep. 



CONVERSATION VI. 



COMEESATION VI. 



Scene, — A quarry among hills — a distant 
view of mountains crowned with snow, 

Edith, ^' The kings of old have shrine and tomb 
In many a haughty minster's gloom," 

and here lie sepulchred, embalmed more 

curiously than Egyptian art contrived, some 

of our globe'^s earliest inhabitants. 

Lyulph. Man is not the only animal 

" splendid in ashes, pompous in the grave 

everywhere we find memorials, beautiful and 

grand, of creatures which preceded us on 

the earth ; every mountain is a sepulchral 

monument, almost every stone a tomb. From 

unnumbered ages similar changes have taken 



90 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

place, similar laws prevailed. Life, with 
miraculous power, has built up material par- 
ticles in countless forms of being, which have 
existed for a season, then passed to the do- 
minion of death, and been taken to pieces 
by the fingers of decay. So has it been 
from the beginning, so is it now, and, if 
we reason by analogy, so will it be for 
ever. 

jE. But more than fossil remains of 
human existence will endure — we are not 
like the beasts that perish. There must 
be regions which death cannot reach, lands 
where immortal flowers blow, where all hope 
is accomplished, all desire fulfilled, where 
sympathy links kindred souls in bonds of 
adamantine union, that defy both change 
and time. 

L. During the life of any animal its 
particles are in a state of ceaseless change ; 
the organism of to-day is not that of yester- 
day. When this removal of particles ceases 



SOUL-DEVELOPMENT. 91 



to take place, according to vital laws, the 
organism decays ; but who shall say that 
the power which brought them together 
decays also ? All that we know is, that 
we no longer see the same process con- 
ducted ; but that does not prove annihilation. 
All action that we are acquainted with pro- 
duces reaction, and perhaps if life operates 
on matter, matter operates on life. This 
action may, for ought we know, be needful 
for the development of soul, but the neces- 
sity for that precise mode of it which takes 
place in what we call a living organism is 
only for a time. Death is only one form 
of Change, and Change has its relation to 
Time ; it is a relation, not an absolute exist- 
ence. The opponents of the natural evidence 
of immortality appeal to the triumphs of 
death in the lower world ; but they know 
not what those triumphs are, nor to what 
extent they go. It is mere assumption that 
nothing remains of animals after what we call 



92 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



their death. We cannot logically prove that 
anything does remain, nor can they prove 
that something does not remain, beyond the 
physical particles which now go to form 
some other mode of being. The triumphs 
over death and time, which are always as- 
sociated together in human anticipation, will 
spring from that extension of the faculties 
which will enable us to see eternal realities 
with an unbounded view. 

jB. The existence of animals beyond the 
grave seems to give a noble perception of 
the universal plan. I cannot sympathize 
with those who feel their own dignity in- 
jured by sharing immortality with lower 
creatures, nor can I believe in anything 
that has been, passing entirely away. 

L. Here are fossils of a primaeval period, 
when life seems to have dawned upon the 
world. 

E, Here is a beautiful chain coral, and 
a curious thing with large eyes. 



PROGRESS IN CREATION. 



93 



L. A trilobite, a crustacean animal. The 
eyes are composed of many lenses, so arranged 
as to give the creature a most extensive 
range of vision. We observe a similar struc- 
ture in existing creatures, so that light and 
refraction, and the condition of the ocean^s 
water must have been the same then as it 
is now. 

E. Did not these creatures precede the 
higher race of animals that we have now 
in the world ? 

L, All evidence that we have tells us 
so, but it is negative not positive proof. 
The gradual unfolding of Nature's plan, the 
successive peopling of our globe with higher 
races of being, is a dangerous doctrine. 
There is a truth in it, but it requires great 
caution to prevent a complete misconception. 

E. The notion of improvement in creation 
as sometimes put forth is most repulsive. In 
Nature the earliest must have been as perfect 
as the latest work. 



94 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



L. All contrary suppositions are as ab- 
surd in science, as they are discordant to 
feeling. The coral of existing seas is no 
improvement upon that of earliest times, 
and if among the crustacean animals of the 
present day we find some superior in organ- 
ization to the trilobites, we find others that 
are not. The introduction of a new species 
superior to those which preceded it, cannot 
be regarded as an improvement upon them. 
The so called improved animal fills a diffe- 
rent position, now for the first time vacant. 
In various periods and under different cir- 
cumstances new groups of animals have 
appeared, replacing old groups which have 
passed away. Every creature has or had 
its appointed place as accurately defined 
in its own group as any wheel of a watch, 
or portion of the most cunning mechanism. 
The group of vertebrate animals is higher 
than that which seems to have preceded 
it, but the idea of gradual progress from 



POETEY OF CEEATION. 95 



a coral through a cephalopod to a fish is 
most absurd. If we compare the highest 
cephalopod with the lower kinds of fish, the 
superiority of the latter is one of family 
not of individuality, if range of powers 
and sensation be the test of comparative 
dignity, and no cephalopod of the present day 
surpasses those which existed long ages ago. 

E, Imagination and poetic feeling can 
have no sympathy with those views of 
Nature which reduce creation to the suc- 
cessive and improving efforts of mechanical 
skill. This glorious world never was a 
mere workshop, as some would have us 
suppose. It seems that those who thus 
strive to make Nature easy, altogether mis- 
took where the difficulty lies. The wonder 
is, not that man with all his power should 
have been created, but that any thing should 
have been created at all, should be at all. 

L. The life of an oyster is as miraculous 
as the life of a philosopher. Once get 



96 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



life and the power which regulates it, and 
all else is comparatively easy. Arrive at 
an adequate and really soul-sufficing cause 
for the simplest existence, and you have 
a cause competent for all that the imagi- 
nation can conceive. The eye of the trilo- 
bite we have just been looking at, implies 
an harmonious relation to causes and powers 
which operate throughout the stellar uni- 
verse, and which have existed with un- 
broken action and undeviating efficacy for 
myriads of ages. 

E, Progress is a thing of time ; there 
can be no progress to Him who lives in 
an eternal present. It seems as though 
false theology was at the bottom of much 
false philosophy. 

L, Either theology, or philosophy, based 
upon unsound principles, produces error in 
the other. Science has wonders far trans- 
cending those of superstition, and they are 
poor philosophers who try to bring Nature 



SHADOWS OF DIYINE THOUGHT. 97 

down to the level of their small capacities 
instead of striving to exalt those capacities 
to the height of creation's truth. No savage, 
worshipping the most preposterous idol, 
ever believed greater absurdities than a 
modern sceptic, who makes his small mo- 
dicum of reason the standard by which to 
measure the boundless universe. 

E, Creation seems a continuous melody, 
an ever-flowing stream. The dawn must 
live, even though the daylight is fully 
come. 

L. The great work is still going on. 
In one sense the Sabbath of repose is now, 
and has been from the beginning; in an- 
other sense it will never be. To the 
Divine mind the whole cycle of eternity 
has been ever present, and man traces 
slowly the shadows of Divine thought, 
thrown upon the stream of time. 

E, How the notion of secondary causes 
has been perverted. Once elemental spirits 

H 



98 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

presided over all operations, and genii 
dwelt in trees, rivers, and flowers ; now 
everything is explained by what we call 
laws of Nature ; once enacted they are sup- 
posed to do all, and yet to my mind the 
up-springing of every blade of grass is a 
new creation. 

L. And rightly so. Secondary causes 
exist only while a first cause operates, and 
the term law of Nature conveys a fallacious 
idea, if understood otherwise than as ex- 
plaining what experience has led us to 
believe, the uniform mode of Divine ope- 
ration. There is no philosophical reason 
for, believing that Creative power operated 
more directly to produce the first created 
beings, than it has done ever since to pro- 
duce their descendants. The idea of dele- 
gated authority sometimes resorted to is 
manifestly erroneous. Who would obey 
the king'^s ofiicer as much if the king were 
dead or he had abdicated his authority ? 



UNITY OF CEEATION. 99 



E, I suppose some would say, if every 
flower is an act of creation, why not create 
the flower without the seed ; but the seed 
is wanting as much as the flower ; in Nature's 
plan the idea would not be complete without 
it. It were as wise to ask why a musician 
played the whole of a piece of music instead 
of only the concluding note. 

L. Every part is needful, — is itself an idea, 
and the universe may be regarded as one great 
association of ideas. How many of them 
crowd upon us standing as we now do, in one 
of the old world's tombs, whose inhabitants 
are brought to light after lying hid for cycles 
of ages ! Where the tool of the quarryman 
stops, vegetation grows, building on the ruins 
of an early world ; we see mountains — once 
the bed of some primaeval sea, the grave of 
many rivers — now the cradle of fertilizing 
streams, which flow from the melting snows 
that crown their summits. Under how 
many aspects may this scene be viewed, a 



100 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



book of science, a poem, a splendid picture, 
a gallery of antiquities, the sepulchre of an 
antique world, the birth-place of a new. 
Intellect has its stimulus to inquire, ima- 
gination its promptings to soar higher than 
the mountain peaks, and the heart is called 
upon by the myriad-toned voice of Nature, 
to exult in sympathy with the universal plan, 
in which Death and Life, Permanence and 
Change work together for the great objects 
of existence. 

E, As yon mountains are crowned with 
unsullied snow, so should pure feeling crown 
the human soul, and be the source of fer- 
tihzing streams to the land of thought be- 
neath. 

Z. The stories which time has written on 
the crust of our globe, the philosophy of 
human history, the belief and hope of the 
human heart, all tend to strengthen the idea 
of progress ; but it is not a process of mecha- 
nical improvement, gradually bettering bad 



man's arithmetic. 



101 



things into good, and calculable by man's 
arithmetic, but obedient to laws which his 
highest faculties must fail to explain although 
they tell him to believe. According to man's 
idea of improvement, each succeeding age 
should eclipse its forerunners, not only in 
social, but individual characteristics ; and yet | 
this is far from being the case : among an 
enslaved and half savage people arose Moses, 
the Divine legislator for all succeeding time ; 
ages before modern science, came Plato with j 
his Divine philosophy, eternal as the heaven's \ 
to which it soared. Praxiteles is still the un- 
surpassed sculptor ; Raphael the consummate 
painter, and Shakespeare the universal and 
prevailing poet. We hope for and believe 
in progress, but we expect not to legislate 
with more wisdom than Moses, or to ascend 
to regions higher than Platonic thought. 
If miracle be that which no law we are 
acquainted with is competent to explain, one 
of the greatest miracles is the rise and action 





102 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



of gifted men. The geologist may tell how 
mountains arose by the operation of volcanic 
force ; and the meteorologist may tell how 
they received their crown of everlasting snow; 
but no science can explain how the world's 
great leaders arose and received their far 
more enduring crowns of inspiration and 
genius. Vain is the effort to trace secondary 
causation through all the changes of the 
universe ; there is a limit to this mode of 
investigation, there is a line beyond which is 
the dictate, thus far but no farther shalt thou 
go. Secondary causation is the circle of 
time, primary causation is that of eternity. 

E, How wonderful are the laws of 
thought ! With what strange sympathy are 
persons, separated from each other by space 
and position, led at once to the same train of 
feeling ! If we earnestly give our souls to 
any subject, we find others at the same time 
taking similar views. There must be actions 
of mind on mind, more subtle than those of 



BROTHEEHOOD OF THOUGHT. 103 



electricity, connecting links unfelt, unseen, 
which bind human hearts and human souls 
in the same brotherhood of thought and 
feeling. It seems that human thought and 
emotion, unwritten and unspoken, can influ- 
ence kindred souls. 'Tis not only a dream 
of superstition that we hold converse with 
the dead, or with those we love in distant 
lands ; even now, our minds overpass the 
limits of Time and Space. There is reality 
when imagination takes us into the presence 
of the great and good, though they may 
dwell thousands of miles far away across 
the globe, or have died ages before our own | 
appearance in the world. There are those j 
who seem in mortal life rather spiritual than 
corporeal beings, who give forth an emanation, 
an influence, an Amphion music which our 
souls obey, and build up a stately pleasure | 
home of thought. There are those who | 
drink in at every pore the heavenly dew 
of inspiration, let it sink into their souls, 



104 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

and then come gushing up from unknown 
depths, a fountain of life, giving strength to 
the pilgrims that journey to an eternal home. 

L. How little dominion has Death over 
these. They serve principles which cannot 
die, and even in this world their lives are 
a victory over the powers of decay. 



CONVERSATION VIT. 



COXVEESATION VIL 



Scene. — Druidical remains on a wide plain. 

Edith, We have contemplated the relics 
of a primseval world, here are the relics 
of a primaeval faith. We have seen the 
bones of creatures whose life was in the 
far-distant past — here we have, as it were, 
the skeleton of a religion that has been for 
ages dead. Other memorials of our early 
ancestors identify them with time, with the 
finite past, these seem to carry us beyond 
the bounds of history into the eternity that 
lies behind. The ivied ruins of mediaeval 
art, the mouldering temples of Egypt, or of 
Greece, seem to belong to an earlier portion 



108 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



of our own era. Humanity, with essential 
characteristics, then as now, is impressed 
upon them; but these stones tell rather of 
elemental powers than of mortal hands. If 
they had been set up but yesterday, they 
would still seem old, — the very spirit of the 
past is in them, and makes them more 
antique than many an elder ruin. 

L. It is not the lapse of time so much as 
\ the change of thought that makes remote. 
The earliest ages of authentic history, in one 
country, seem less ancient than subsequent 
periods of tradition and legend in other 
regions. Objects seen in the light of 
history, are like those viewed on the sur- 
face of our globe, we can appreciate their 
comparative distance from each other as 
well as from ourselves, while those seen in 
the light of fable, seem like the stars in the 
heavens, equally remote from us. 

E. Let us stand in the old Druid 
circle. 



HARMONY OF NATURE. 109 



L. Now we feel the spiritual power of 
these wonderful remains. Is it not startling? 
A few yards from them they were little 
more than strange old stones ; now there is 
something almost supernatural in their in- 
fluence, which has come so suddenly upon 
us. 

E. Here, we could believe them the 
work of more than mortal power ; magical 
incantations, and wizard spells, almost be- 
come realities to our senses. 

L, We feel that deep and mysterious 
influence which Nature sheds around human 
works, when constituted in harmony, with 
grand and sublime thought. If the soul 
of the artist is filled with such, physical 
elements become plastic in his hands, and 
give it a lasting expression. 

E. It is beautiful to feel the harmonious 
relation between the worlds of matter and 
of mind ; all existence seems obedient and 
responsive to glowing thought ; Nature 



110 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



suggests truth in a thousand forms, and 
provides the materials with which it may 
be eternally expressed. Form, colour, light, 
shade, and sound, are attendant spirits, ever 
ready to give perennial utterance to man's 
sublimest conceptions, and constitute a lan- 
guage as real as that of words. 

L. Is it not strange that a religion 
should die ? Its ruins have a deeper sig- 
nificance than those of empire, for, in sur- 
veying the past, we care more what nations 
felt than what they did. 

E, Has any religion ever died ? Does 
not the soul of the ancient faith still live 
and exert its influence on our faith ? 

L. That is the better view ; priesthoods 
and priestcrafts pass away, but that which 
gave vitality and power to the earliest, forms 
part of the latest system : the good remains, 
the evil is forgotten. 

jB. Oblivion is annihilation — so does evil 
pass away. 



FIEST-BORX OF CREATION. 



Ill 



L, In the physical world all that has 
been z^, the virgin light of new-born stars, 
the ripple of the primaeval sea ; the first 
sounds of creation, the first colours and 
the first forms still are ; whatsoever the 
hand of change has written on this globe 
or universe still is; so remains all that has 
been inscribed on the human mind and 
heart. A positive eternity is for all things, 
but a virtual eternity for the good alone. 
It is only when viewed under certain aspects, 
that the good seems linked with the bad. 
Seen from the earth, myriads of stars, 
divided by distances which the imagination 
utterly fails to grasp, are in contact ; seen 
from an appropriate spot in the heavens, 
all communication would vanish; so from 
some point of perfect ^dsion, the connection 
between good and evil would disappear.* 

^ This must of coui'se be taken only as an illustration 
of the truth to be discerned, by looking at this question 
of good and evil under one aspect, 



112 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



Evil sensations and evil thoughts can be 
recalled as well as good ; but nothing comes 
of itself or by itself ; it must be summoned 
by some initial thought or sensation, and 
appears attended with its train. When 
immortal man has brought his will into 
perfect harmony with the Divine will, the 
links which now unite evil with good will 
be dissolved ; no suggestion of the former 
can arise, and it will become virtually as 
though it had never been. A musical 
instrument may have given many discords ; 
they may be recalled, repeated, but never 
when the instrument is in perfect tune, and 
responds only to the touch of the consum- 
mate artist. 

E. If all men were perfectly good, they 
would do and suflfer no evil; and when they 
become so, they will remember no evil. If 
immortality brings before us every action 
and sensation of the past, in more than 
primaeval intensity of impression, happiness 



GOD MADE ACCESSIBLE. 113 



must depend upon our perfect union with 
Divine goodness. Christ is for this purpose 
God made accessible to man, that evil may 
be destroyed and good made all in all. 

L. These stones witness how much truth 
there was in the mythologies of early times. 
Christianity in the past was not bounded 
by the eighteen and a half centuries, which 
we call its era. It illumined the earliest 
ages ; it burned brighter in the soul of Plato 
than in most minds now ; the good and the 
wise of all ages have been of one faith : the 
communion of saints is limited neither by 
country nor race ; no people have been 
without their revelation, their objects of 
worship, their forms of adoration. 

E. That is a noble view of the unity 
of religion. With the stream of humanity 
has ever flowed the stream of faith. I seem 
to see it as a mighty and ever augmenting 
river ; on its banks are altars and temples 
of a thousand forms ; there are all modes 



114 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



of propitiation, all forms of prayer, savage 
and uncouth rites, horrid noises, and soul- 
thrilling hymns ; all kinds of feeling, from 
servile deprecation, which is demon worship, 
to fervent aspiration, which is Divine wor- 
ship; the mighty stream flows on leaving 
us behind, and will flow through times and 
regions, which will transcend our own, far 
more than they do the remotest past, until 
at length both faith and man shall in the 
ocean of eternity reach their abiding home. 

L. There is something strongly sym- 
bolical and prophetic in the Druid temples ; 
they suggest the idea of buildings not made 
with hands; open to the heavens, there is 
nothing to intercept the smoke of sacrifice, 
the ascent of prayer ; their form depicted 
the Serpent and the Sun,* wisdom and 

* The Serpent and the Sun seem to have been 
objects of Druidical worship. The circle represented 
the Sun, and the avenue of stones leading to it often 
had the form of a Serpent. — See Deane on Serpent 
Worship, 



THE HIGHEST THUTH. 



115 



immortality, leading to the great source of 
light. 

E. Such pictures of early religions illus- 
trate the way in which the good that was 
in them grows brighter as the evil passes 
away, but you cannot call them true pictures 
of the past. 

L. Mere copy is not the highest kind 
of truth ; let us look at the past as the 
poet or the artist looks at Nature, with the 
wish to be true to its highest truth. It 
is not by accurately surveying its errors 
that we avoid repeating them, for the safest 
way to abstain from evil is to cling to good. 
In arriving at the good of any system we 
discard the evil, just as in getting at a kernel 
we throw away the husk. It is by preserv- 
ing memorials of the good, and allowing the 
evil to perish, that tradition so often becomes 
a valuable servant to aspiration and pro- 
p-ress. 



116 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



E, I know not why, but these rude stones 
remind me of old cathedrals. 

L. They exhibit opposite poles of one 
principle of art. They both bear the im- 
press rather of man^s mind than of his hands. 
In districts which have been the scene of 
volcanic convulsion are portions of such tem- 
ples as these often formed by elemental 
powers, although no Druid ever ministered 
within them ; and in many a beech wood 
we see the type of the cathedral — there are 
the slender pillars and the rich tracery, and, 
when autumn has tinted the leaves, the 
coloured windows are not wanting. In the 
simple structure of the Druids there is no 
mechanism to conceal, while in the elaborate 
works of Gothic architecture, art is sublimed 
into Nature; the first has its analogies to 
moor and mountain, the latter to the forest 
and the grove ; in both man rises above 
mechanism and seems a delegate of creative 
power. 



SUGGESTIONS OF THE IXFIXITE. 117 



E. The broken outlines and varied hue 
which lichens and shadow give these stones, 
still fnrther approximate them to the ca- 
thedral. 

i. In both the indefinite suggests the 
idea, — the sensation rather, of the infinite. 
That is a poor kind of art, every portion 
of which is at once equally plain ; it is when 
form blends with form, colour with colour, 
soimd with sound, making an orderly but 
mysterious maze in which the soul can lose 
itself, that the emotions of the sublime are 
best excited. 

E. Everything in Nature suggests the 
infinite. Surely the sensation of the bound- 
less is natural, necessary to man. 

L, It is ; but the sensation must not 
be confounded with the conception. The 
child knows no bounds — nothing has an 
end ; the ideas of vacuity, annihilation, would 
not enter into its mind. The dead go 
somewhere and still live ; the earth and 



118 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

sky go on, on, for ever. From this primitive 
sensation of the infinite, intellect and imagi- 
nation build up the idea of the eternal. 
God is — man is — are no difficulties to the 
child ; it is only when intellect tries to 
understand what the soul feels that doubts 
arise. 

E, Hence so many are afraid of intel- 
lectual cultivation. 

L. But they are doubtless wrong. Well 
has it been said that in wonder all philo- 
sophy begins, and in astoundment does it 
end. The wonder is a simple exercise of 
one faculty, the astoundment is a sensation 
which the whole soul feels when all its 
faculties are simultaneously brought to the 
contemplation of the universe ; but until this 
is effected, instead of astoundment will often 
come doubt. 

E. Whence arises the difference between 
intellect and faith ? 

L. No mind can remain in a mood of 



BELIEF AND UNDERSTANDING. 119 



faith, until all faculties are harmonized by 
the habit of acting well together. Faith 
stimulates inquiry, inquiry ends in convic- 
tion or renunciation. No man can believe 
that which he does not understand, and men 
must try to understand that which they 
believe. 

jE. Is not that a contradiction in 
terms ? 

L. Not if belief and understanding are 
rightly comprehended. Belief is the assent 
of any faculty, understanding is the per- 
ception which any faculty has of the re- 
lation which subsists between any idea, and 
that which it has previously recognised as 
true. We can believe much which we do 
not intellectually understand, but nothing 
that is palpably an intellectual absurdity ; 
otherwise the mind would at once believe 
and disbelieve the same thing, which is im- 
possible. 

E. People often think great truths in- 



120 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

tellectual absurdities, and therefore reject 
them. Is not this an evil? 

L. Doubtless so far as imperfection is 
an evil, but the evil is not in the rejection, 
but in the not understanding. No harm 
can result from rejecting a truth when it 
is really believed to be a falsehood by the 
whole soul, but great mischief arises from 
stifling the evidence which some faculty 
would receive in its favour. The human 
mind at each step of its progress can only 
take in a certain amount of truth, and if 
it does take in all that it can, it deserves 
no blame for rejecting the rest. There can 
be no truth essential to man's advancement 
which some faculty could not induce him 
to believe. 

jE. Is belief purely involuntary ? Have 
we no controul over what we believe ? 

L, Each faculty must, by the law of its 
nature, believe that which comes properly 
evidenced to it ; but the will is not idle. It 



VAEIETIES OF EVIDENCE. 121 



can determine under what aspect a truth 
shall be viewed, whether or not it shall 
be brought within the cognizance of certain 
faculties, or, to speak more correctly, in what 
mood the mind shall contemplate it ; but it 
is not omnipotent even for this. There are 
many minds that do not seem able to act 
in all moods, just as there are instruments 
that cannot perform in all keys. No two 
men can believe precisely alike, because no 
two receive precisely the same evidence, any 
more than they can both receive the same 
rays of light ; and were the evidence exactly 
the same, it would be addressed to different 
minds in different states, and could not pos- 
sibly produce precisely the same result ; but 
from the fact that all men are made accord- 
ing to one type, there must be agreement j 
on general subjects sufficient for purposes of 
social combination. 

E. Reflecting on belief and opinion, we 
cannot but think what stories these stones 



122 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

could tell, what revolutions they have wit- 
nessed, what persecutions they have seen. 
Christianity was once a merciless assailant 
on the older faith, and often there was a 
bitter revenge. These stones have survived 
the fall of the religion to which they are con- 
secrated ; they have seen Popery in its 
splendour, and Protestantism triumphant ; 
and if man will let them alone, they will be 
a memorial of other times for distant gene- 
rations, when Popery and Protestantism 
shall look no bigger than the old Druid 
faith does now. 

L. The seeds of Christianity are only 
germinating, the harvest is yet to come. 
There is still Paganism in abundance, in the 
worship of wealth and station, which is more 
degrading than that of the gods of Olympus, 
or those mysterious beings to whose honour 
these stones were upraised : only a part of 
ancient idolatry has passed away. We must 
wait long for the time when men will be 



HAEVEST OF THE FUTURE. 123 



valued entirely for that which is within them, 
and not at all for factitious advantages which 
are without; for the time when as much 
divinity will be seen in the Peasant of Gali- 
lee as in the Son sitting on the throne of 
Heaven. 



CONVERSATION VIII. 



COXYERSATION VIIL 



Scene. — A common^ with a beech-wood at the 
back — a large pond, a cottage, several felled 
trees Ij/ing on the grass ^ and children play- 
ing. 

Lyulph. How beautifully the smoke from 
that red cottage curls among the beech-trees. 
'Tis strange that a thing so evanescent as 
smoke should be the subject of such enduring 
associations ; and yet, after long wandering, 
when the man revisits some happy early 
home in a woodland spot, what a magical 
intensity of feeling is summoned by the sight 
of the beautiful grey vapour ascending so 



128 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



peacefully, and mingling with the many- tinted 
leaves. 

Edith. In all kinds of enchantment smoke 
has ever been an important element. 

Z. Necromantic art furnishes us with 
few spells of greater power to summon the 
spirits of the past than wreaths of village 
smoke. It is perhaps more powerful than the 
sound of village bells. How vividly it brings 
before us early home ; forms and faces that 
have long passed away ; the first outbursting 
of emotional life, the love of kind friends, the 
first recognition of the beautiful in Nature, 
which has since grown to a passion — a 
religion ! 

E. The impressions which simple natural 
objects make upon us in early childhood, 
often strike some deep chord, which makes 
the key-note of life. A flower ; a bright in- 
sect ; the sparkling brilliancy of the stars on 
a frosty night ; the crescent moon, climbing 
slowly over the tree tops, or pouring an 



TASTES OF CHILDHOOD. 129 



interrupted light through forest leaves, the 
mysterious splendour of the glow-worm on 
a mossy bank, — such sights in the silence and 
repose of evening in the country often give 
the first and deepest hue of poetry to young 
hearts and minds. 

Z. And harmonize well with tales of 
fairies and enchanted castles, which all 
children love. 

E, And grown people, too, at any rate 
the best of them, if they would tell the 
truth and feel proud as they ought, and not 
be ashamed, as they often are, of having 
preserved a little childhood in maturer 
years. 

L. Most wisely has Nature given to 
childhood a love of the wonderful and the 
beautiful ; and of all pernicious cants, one 
of the worst is that, which, under pretence of 
loving truth, crams the memory and stimulates 
the intellect, when full play should be given 
to the fancy and the heart. See, here is a 

K 



ISO MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



fairy ring " whereof the ewe not bites 
happy the full-grown man, or woman either, 
who can people it with dancing elves, and 
think not of dissertations on fungi. There 
are folks who will scarce let a mother 
suckle her baby without acquainting both 
with the principles of hydraulics. 

E, But happily a strong reaction is tak- 
ing place from all such absurdities. Infor- 
mation can be given at any time, but a fine 
tone of feeling must commence in very early 
life, or it will always be wanting. 

Z, What a pity it is that these children 
grow up in a scene of so much beauty, with 
no perception of its existence ! 

F. It is not all minds that are naturally 
susceptible of such impressions, but I think 
all could be led to feel them. 

L. Yes, and that would be a most val- 
uable part of education. Here are human 
hearts in the presence of Nature's objects, but 
they are severed as effectually from them 



EPOCHS OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 131 



as they are from the " spicy gales of Araby 
the Blest," and few there are who can bring 
home a freight of holy feeling, and land it in 
another's breast. 

E, Many hearts are so girt with rocks 
and perilous shoals, that shipwreck is often 
the lot of those who try to read them. 

L. But it is an enchanted coast, and 
there are thoughts and words of power to 
dissolve them into air. 

E. The beautiful has two epochs in hu- 
man life ; childhood when its seeds are most 
easily sown, and in after years when its 
neglected flowers raise their heads under the 
influence of ardent love. 

L. None can love vv^ell who are not 
worshipers of the beautiful. 

E. There is nothing that so readily links 
heart to heart as a glo^^ing sympathy with 
it. Exceptions are rare that good hearts and 
true are not deeply touched with its pre- 
sence. 



132 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

L, Through what transitions do v/e pass ! 
The child's delight is feeling ; then comes the 
thirst for knowing ; it seems most glorious 
to unfold the mystic scroll of Nature's laws, 
to climb the heights of science, and look 
down on the world with pride, perhaps with 
a touch of scorn ; then knowledge, which 
seemed a god, appears only a ministering 
spirit ; science, which seemed the temple, 
is only an approach ; then knowing returns 
to feehng, and when they are completely 
united the altar is reached. 

E, That is man's course, but woman has 
less thirst for knowing, and her primal want 
is a spot where her feelings can take root 
and flourish. 

L, In this human pilgrimage towards the 
good, many stop on the road or diverge into 
some tempting but treacherous path ; few 
reach the goal. 

jB. Let us sit on this tree ; we can look 
down the woodland aisles and see the smoke 



SOUECES OF LOYE. 133 

curling like incense about the leafy roof, and 
hear the wind rustling through the branches, 
and the insects hum. 

L. We are surrounded by rich treasures 
of sensuous life ; the air is laden with the 
scent of flowers and herbs, and with that 
strange and suggestive odour of forest 
mould. 

E. Desdemona loved Othello for the 
dangers he had passed another source of 

love is the beautiful that has been felt or 

seen. 

Z. And one of equal power. He who 
has visited strange lands, and returns laden 
with rare and curious treasures, has need of 
some home which they may adorn ; and this 
is more true of him who has laid up a rich 
store of the treasures of fancy or the 
heart. 

jE. Happy indeed are they who have 
loved the beautiful as children, clung to it 
with devoted will through after life, prized it 



184 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

as a precious jewel, a talismanic gem, where- 
with to open the gates of truth. 

L. Life should alternate with sensation 
and action, thought and deed ; they are 
complementary parts of complete existence, 
and each one induces the other. It is im- 
possible for either to be well developed 
alone. 

E. It is among rural scenes that the 
sense of the beautiful is most easily developed ; 
it is there that its first lessons should be 
received. The simplest elements of physical 
beauty which can act upon the child, prepare 
for the appreciation of its more complex 
combination ; but the simplest form of flower 
or leaf, which first called the young faculties 
into sympathetic exercise, should do so at 
last, and with deeper significance. 

L. Yes, he who really feels the meaning 
of the divinest of all forms, that of woman, 
who truly and deeply loves the noblest 
beauty of mind and heart, will be able to 



! 

THE POWER OF BEAUTY. 135 



turn from them to the simplest manifestations 
of the beautiful, which won the affections of 
his childhood, and find them still all that 
they were in the beginning, and glowing with 
the superadded lustre that loftiest associa- 
tion reflects upon them. 

jE. Beauty unites all things, links to- 
gether flower and star, with chains more | 
certain than those of reason. The poet, the j 
artist, thus finds the clue which guides them 
in their pilgrimage throughout the world. 

L. Nor is the man of science less its 
debtor ; for he who does not habitually feel 
the poetry of philosophy, is merely a col- 
lector of facts, and deserves not the name of 
philosopher at all. Those who have done 
most to unfold the hidden properties of 
things, lay wide and deep the foundations 
of knowledge, and rear high its superstruc- 
ture, have had great imaginations, and would 
have been great poets, if they had not been 
great philosophers ; and let us remember 



136 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



what treasures of wisdom are the writings of 
true poets, what deep insights they give us 
into the realities of the universe. 

jB. It seems as though poetry and phi- 
losophy were twin stars of different but 
harmonious colours, each shining in the 
other'^s light, and shedding a twofold radi- 
ance upon their attendant planets. 

L. Legends tell of herbs of such virtue, 
that they enable those who find and know 
how to use them to see the wonders of fairy- 
land. 

E. They are wise fables, and beautiful 
as true ; every leaf, every flower, is in it- 
self a fairy scene, and calls up a host of 
magical associations. 

Z. What a beautiful relation is that of 
plants and dew ! Theirs is the blessing of 
giving ; they give warmth to the air, and, 
by so doing, receive its liquid gems, and 
in this the physical world but images the 
world of mind; for only when the soul freely 



HAEMONY OF THOUGHT. 137 



radiates light and warmth, does it receive 
from Heaven the immortal dew of divine 
approval. 

E, Sitting in this pleasant shade, what 
varieties of impressions come to lis at once, 
from colour, light, shadow, the hum of in- 
sects, the song of birds, the rustling of leaves, 
and odours of the earth and herbs, warm 
sunshine, tempered by the cool breeze, and all 
harmonized into one deep exquisite feeling 
of sensuous life ! Such an hour as this lays 
up a store of materials, from which we can 
at leisure arouse high and happy thoughts. 

L. The capacity for simultaneously en- 
joying varied and harmonious trains of sen- 
sation, is the foundation for afterwards de- 
veloping harmonious trains of thought. In 
such does philosophy chiefly consist, for it is 
that process by which the greatest variety of 
truth is harmoniously combined. The power 
of bringing all the faculties of the mind to 
bear consentaneously upon one object, enables 



138 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



US to think harmoniously ; the trains of ideas 
or the melodies of each faculty are combined 
into one prevailing whole. Perhaps none 
born without a natural aptitude can do this 
well, but habit of early association helps 
much. The form which association weaves, 
the style of pattern which it produces, is 
determined in early life. Three harmonious 
strains vibrate throughout the universe— the 
True, the Beautiful, and the Good; men 
should learn almost in infancy to hear them 
all at once ; they are also three golden 
threads, the clue of Nature'^s labyrinth, — 
three primal colours of the spectrum, and 
should be so jointly perceived from the be- 
ginning that one always and necessarily 
suggests the other two. 

E. This perfection of association is a 
prerogative of genius. 

L, Science may perceive only one, phi- 
losophy recognizes all, and thus enters into 
its Nirvana, and becomes religion. 



THE CENTRE OF SOULS. 139 



E. A religion of which all great hearts 
are worshipers, all great minds are priests, 
infinity, eternity, its creed, and all the 
universe its sacred book. 

L, How the human mind and heart crave 
for the infinite ! No flower turns with more 
natural devotion to the source of light than 
man to the great centre of souls. All 
philosophy, all religion, whose prevailing idea 
is multitude, fail to satisfy the soul, because 
the true idea of infinity is not to be found 
in multitude, however harmonious and vast, 
but only in an all-pervading and compre- 
hensive unity. In mathematics, if there was 
no first term, there could be no series, and 
the first term may be said potentially to 
contain the whole. All Nature is symbolic, 
all science hieroglyphic, many know the 
characters by rote, to whom no meaning is 
revealed ; yet no age is without interpreters, 
no heart incapable of receiving truth. 





CONVERSATION IX. 



COXYEfiSATION IX. 



Scene. — A rocky promontory^ with the ruins 
of an old castle overlooking the Atlantic. 

Edith, See, the mist rolls off the hill 
and a gleam of bright sunshine kindles a 
light on the old watch-tower. Once 'twas 
a beacon to warn vessels from the shoals 
of the Atlantic, now it stands a beacon on 
the shoals of time. The lighthouse and the 
castle are a beautiful combination, beneficence 
and strength. I cannot look upon those 
old piles without loving the good that was 
in the past ; I think rather of chivalrous 
devotion than of feudal tyranny, of banquets 



144 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



in the hall where barons and vassals feasted 
together^ and the voice of the harper glad- 
dened the heart of the high-born noble 
and the poor serf, making the roof ring 
with the praise of valour and love. We 
ought sometimes to forget the errors of the 
past or see in them only a watch-tower to 
warn us from rocks on which many have 
perished. Time has carried light into the 
old dungeons, rotted away chains and fetters, 
perished instruments of war, destroyed all 
that need tell evil tales of olden days, but 
left much of poetry, wonder, and romance. 
Every stone of these old ruins drinks nightly 
dew to nourish moss, lichen, and ivy ; in- 
stead of emblazoned banners long ferns hang 
from the walls, birds build in the crevices, 
the owl has replaced the baron, and the 
chattering daw his retainers, while the ocean 
sings its everlasting minstrel song. 

Lyulph, There could not be a finer object 
for idealization ; decay has left all that was 



TRUTH TO CHAEACTER. 145 



beautiful and exalted its significance, but 
the time will come when not one stone 
shall be left, and feudal ages shall be with- 
out one physical memorial to tell that they 
have ever been, but imagination will re- 
create them for every generation in poem 
and song. They were true to some forms 
of human character, some qualities of mind 
and heart 5 which will remain so long as 
man remains and claim in all times some 
mode of expression that is in harmony with 
advancing views. No one can rightly idea- 
lize the present who knows not how to 
idealize the past. 

£. It seems that we cannot know that 
which we do not idealize, for the ideal is 
truth concerninof the hiofhest and often un- 
developed nature of the actual. The ideal 
child, a being of boundless innocence and 
love, is not less real than the actual and 
half conscious and helpless infant. 

L, Being is continuous and existence is 



146 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

essentially one. Ideality sees the future 
in the present, beholds the oak of a thousand 
years with lordly trunk and spreading 
branches in the acorn which has never, 
perhaps will never germinate at all. Every 
object has high capacities, great changes to 
undergo, great duties to perform ; the dust 
we tread upon may one day be a portion 
of most exalted being. The more we know 
the true philosophy of the universe, the more 
we see the beauty and the importance of 
the smallest part. All this great scheme 
of things depends for its existence upon a 
balancing of attractive and repulsive forces ;* 
annihilate one atom, or let it roam beyond 
its appointed sphere, the equilibrium would 
be destroyed and the universe would vanish 
like the fabric of a vision, and not one 
particle of matter, or that which would 
operate like matter, remain behind. The 

Some further reflections on this subject will be 
found in the succeeding conversation. 



POWER OF IDEALITY. 



147 



splendid passage of the poet is strictly true, 
an anticipation of future science ; the loftiest 
ideaHst and the soundest philosophers often 
go hand in hand and always reach the same 
goal. 

E, Ideality, like faith, can remove moun- 
tains. When we are made to feel the ideal 
of our own nature we are constrained to 
approach it as well as we may. It is by 
uniting the real and the ideal, the present 
and the future, that anything can fully satisfy 
our souls. When aflFection clings to some 
beloved object with all the fervour of de- 
votion, it is not alone that which now is, 
that fills the heart, but the full consciousness 
of that which is to come ; the glory of the 
future is made present by ideality, and, 
while physical senses only perceive part, 
imagination grasps the whole. 

L. Everything that is transient has its 
enduring counterpart, and ideality joins them 
together. Were our senses not bounded by 



148 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

restrictions of time they would perceive one 
eternal present ; we should see at once the 
seed, the flower, and the fruit. Ideality 
invests its objects with splendid excellence, 
but when wisely used with an excellence 
which one day must be theirs. No faculty 
has more need of intellect, for without it 
the qualities and attributes of one thing are 
ascribed to another. Every human character 
is susceptible of idealization, but it is often 
as misapplied as if any one should see a pine 
forest in the down of a thistle. We cannot 
know that which is before imagination assists 
our predictions of that which is to come. 

E, Love always idealizes, and when 
strong impulse is misdirected we have the 
deep wretchedness which must always result 
from " loving not wisely but too well.*" 

L, There is always one style of cha- 
racter, one mould of mind, which each of 
us can idealize most completely ; with it the 
defects of the actual and present do not 



EREORS IN EXPECTATION. 149 



break down or mar its ideal reflection in 
our own minds. We feel that we have 
made no mistake as to whose picture it is ; 
but if we have joined the idea of a philo- 
sopher to an actual person with no ten- 
dencies which when expanded will lead to 
philosophy, or the ideal of an impulsive 
being to one who is only an incarnation 
of duty, we have committed an error for 
which we shall most bitterly pay. We have 
expected grapes of thorns, or permanence 
from a building on a shifting sand. 

jEc And expectation thus disappointed 
is not easily renewed ; a building thus de- 
stroyed is not easily replaced. The destruc- 
tion of an ideal image too often includes 
that of the mirror in which it was reflected. 

L. The ideaUzing action of woman's love 
is one of the strongest causes of man's high- 
est exertions. 

E. And woman knows not the depth 
of her own nature until she sees it imaged 



150 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



ill man'^s ideal affection. The highest in- 
fluence which they exert upon each other 
is when the objects of idealization strive to 
make the vision thus revealed a sure pro- 
phecy of future advancement. 

L. On this spot we have the emblems of 
the past and the future, the antique ruin and 
the boundless sea. In idealizing exte'nt we 
go forward rather than backward. It is 
with some effort that we think of the ocean's 
youth, it presents rather the appearance of 
everlasting prime, suggests ideas of the futu- 
rity which in reality IS, but to our senses is 
to come. Looking down from this giddy 
height on the rocky coast below, it is as 
though we beheld the ocean of eternity beat- 
ing on the shores of time, the past standing, 
as you have expressed it, a beacon-tower to 
guide us on our way. Happy are they to 
whom the past teaches wisdom, and the 
future hope ; whose imagination, borne on 
the wings of fervid faith, can soar to some 



IDEALIZATION OF NATURE. 151 



exalted heaven, visit some land of paradise 
glowing in the sunlight of a golden age, and 
bring some of its radiant light and fragrant 
flowers to give splendour and loveliness to 
their present home. This w^orld, so full of 
varied beauty, so rich in suggestive forms, 
should be only like an illuminated book, 
when, beautiful as may be the shape of the 
letters, exquisite as the pictured margin, they 
are but faint and feeble images of the divine 
thoughts its words express. External Nature 
should be idealized to the utmost extent, 
and then it appears but the image of the 
human soul ; for there are cloud-piercing 
mountains, oceans of deep emotion reflecting 
the face of heaven, fertilizing rivers of affec- 
tion with golden sands, rich groves, ample 
plains of thought, deep mines of love, in 
which lie buried myriads of priceless gems, 
seeds of amaranthine flowers and deathless 
fruits, which may wait ages for their full 
development, but with the certainty that it 



152 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

is to come. In the physical world, heaven 
and earth combine to give beauty to a scene 
like this, but whatever beauty we can see 
without, we should realize more within. 
External objects grow more and more lovely 
in proportion to the perfection of the light 
which our own souls can cast upon them, 
and ever stimulate to higher progress, 
and not only great works, but still more, 
great thoughts and deeds, speak with in- 
creasing eloquence, shine with increasing 
light. Whatever was true once, is more 
true, true to higher and more extended 
faculties as we advance. The world's 
teachers remain the same from age to age ; 
the same stars that taught the shepherds of 
old Chaldea, led the magi to the Cradle 
at Bethlehem, and still teach their lessons of 
eternal truth: the accents which fell from 
the lips of earliest wisdom, still sound in the 
world ; a great thought never grows old, 
never can die, but exercises from age to age 



MIEROR OF THE FUTURE. 153 

au unseen, and perhaps unfelt, but growing 
influence, to raise man to his loftiest con- 
dition. 

E. The past becomes an ever increasing 
treasure-house of truth, while the error with 
which it was mingled gradually passes away. 
But it is in the mirror of the future that the 
good of the past is best seen, for then only 
can we see its ideal picture, upon which 
generations will gaze with an increasing dis- 
tinctness until it is realized in FACT, and 
gives place to a nobler view ; for ideality 
is prophecy, and the poet a seer. 

L, And ideal pictures, like prophecies, 
produce their own fulfilment. All past 
experience justifies this belief ; and men may 
rest assured that the noblest vision of the 
most gifted minds will be realized here or 
hereafter, so that from every vantage ground 
of new-gained happiness or truth, the ideal 
future will grow fairer and more perfect, and 
through all the ages of eternity, ideality 



154 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



will still be prophecy, and aspiration pro- 
gress. 

E, So that all which is poetical is essen- 
tially true. 

L. Most assuredly; for poetry regards 
the things of time in the light of eternity, 
which alone can make manifest their ten- 
dency and truth. The true poet is essentially 
a believer, for it is impossible to ideahze 
without faith. 

E. And as ideality requires high in- 
tellect for its full development, so does 
Faith. 

L, We cannot too often remember that 
the mind is essentially one, its noblest qua- 
lities demand the existence and exercise of 
those which are subordinate. Wouldst thou 
believe ! strive to know ; wouldst thou feel 
the heights and depths of deathless emotion, 
strive to act with energy, wisely, and well. 



CONVERSATION X. 



CONVERSATION X. 



Scene. — A hill top with a widespread view, 

Edith. No toil is better repaid than ascend- 
ing a lofty hill like this. How beautiful 
it is to walk through the frost fog grey," 
that on an autumn morning partly veils these 
elevated spots, and then see it floating away, 
and seeming to dissolve into light, and hail 
the progress of the ascending sun. First 
to view only a region of unknown mist, then 
through partial rents to see dim forms of 
distant things, and at last a splendid scene, 
with varied objects, brilliant in unclouded sun- 
shine, and overarched by the unspotted sky. 
It is like witnessing the successive stages of 



158 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



a new creation. Outward and visible powers 
do not appear, no finger draws aside the 
curtain of the mist, self-moved the sun glides 
noiseless through the sky ; we are above the 
turmoil of the busy valleys below ; further 
from the abodes of men, but in sensation, 
though not in reality, nearer to those of 
spiritual beings. 

Lyulph. Such scenes and such times 
make two appeals, one to action, and an- 
other to reflection. We feel the bounding 
energy of mountain breeze, and the calm 
deep thought, with its affinities to the un- 
fathomable abysses of heaven, as seen clear 
and free from the vapours which are be- 
low. 

E. Although mountains are among the 
grandest facts, when on them we seem in 
the regions of fancy. 

L. Wherein are ever found the sublimest 
realities. 

E. To what a vast extent are our souls 



ETERNAL HARMONIES. 



159 



indebted to those gigantic disturbances of the 
solid globe, by which mountains were up- 
heaved, and all the wildness of picturesque 
beauty substituted for dead level plains, 
which, without the contrast of noble objects, 
would have told so little of those sublime 
truths, of which every hill is a prophet, every 
stone a book ! 

L, Wonderful are the harmonies of na- 
ture, each fact, each power is true to so much 
— is one note of so many melodies, one 
portion of such varied shapes, one colour of 
so many pictures. Myriads of ages ago, 
chemical and other agencies were at work to 
produce results which now aflfect the physical 
comforts, and help to mould the inmost 
thoughts of men, whose creation so long pos- 
terior to theirs, yet makes with them a 
portion of the everlasting chain of creative 
thought. Nature with the same hand scat- 
ters abroad spiritual and physical gifts. By 
one operation deep sunken strata have been 



160 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



elevated, earth''s mineral wealth, the count- 
less treasures of mine and quarry, brought 
within human reach, and regions of such 
beauty formed, that poet and painter find 
their most ideal objects on the same ground 
where labour gives to nations the physical 
means of conquering the globe. Metal and 
coal are two of the mightiest instruments 
placed at man's disposal ; and, when associated 
with moor and mountain appealing to all 
the nobler feelings of his nature, we may 
read the great lesson, that the material and 
the spiritual are not in themselves antago- 
nistic, however opposed may be their ap- 
peai'ance from some point of imperfect view. 
External Nature has done what man must 
do in his own mind and heart, harmoniously 
reconcile the two. 

E. What majestic poetry is that of 
science ! Well may philosophy have been 
called divine ; heaven-descended, like a life- 
giving shower, it again ascends to its lofty 



] 

STABILITY OF THE EARTH. 161 

birth-place, drawn upwards by the beams of 
the Great Source of Truth. 

L. This sohd earth, the hard mountain 
stone on which w^e stand, is to a great ex- 
tent but an air ; a sUght change in its chemical 
affinities, and it would be mingled with the 
atmosphere ; again a slight change in the 
condition of the solid matter that remained, 
and that too would assume a gaseous form. 
Many reasons might lead us to suppose that 
weight or gravitation is an accident, not an 
essential characteristic of matter ; and for 
ought we know solid ponderable materials 
may pass into the almost spiritual condition 
of light, heat, and electricity ; nothing but 
a balancing of powers which the slightest 
alteration of natural laws would overturn, 
keeps together the fabric of our globe. The 
most solid substance, were that balance over- 
turned, would vanish like a dream. A very 
slight change of the arrangement of ele- 
mental particles, would convert wholesome 



162 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

food into noxious poison, and reverse the 
properties of substances upon which our hap- 
piness and existence depend. We know 
that the same elements may combine in pre- 
cisely the same proportions, and yet produce 
compounds of very varied character. Not 
a moment, but a change takes place,- — old 
affinities and combinations are disturbed, new 
ones arise, — modification is incessant, and 
yet through all the incalculable and incon- 
ceivable number and variety of operations, 
no error occurs ; with unimpaired energy, 
and unerring rectitude, the properties and 
powers with which the materials of our 
globe were endowed ages ago, still achieve 
their wondrous work — a work which is at 
once a history, a prophecy, a revelation, a 
religion. 

E, It seems as though all faculties united 
in the ultimate truth which their most per- 
fect exercise can attain ; the poet is uncon- 
sciously true to the philosophy of the pro- 



ATMOSPHEEE 01 TRUTH. 



163 



foundest science ; and the most illustrious for 
wisdom in physical knowledge, rise above 
and through all petty detail into those grand 
generalizations in which true poetry is so 
amply found. 

L. We Hve in an atmosphere of truth 
and beauty : each one separates and assi- 
milates what he is able. Very similar is 
the process of the vegetation around us. That 
distant forest with its ancient oaks, those 
luxuriant fields with their ripenino- crops, 
whence do they derive a large part of their 
sohd matter It is the air floatino- around 
them, which brings in the subtlest and most 
invisible form, the supply of carbon which 
the delicate apparatus of organic life is able 
to seize, and with it upbuild the stately tree 
or the nutritious grain. Other elements are 
there too. borne by every wind to plants 
ready to take their part in tlie wonderful 
process by which Q-aseous matter is con- 
densed and arrano'ed into the materials of 



164 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



which the human form is made. What 
more wonderful is there in stories of magical 
power, than the creation of solid palaces out 
of thin floating clouds; and yet every mo- 
ment Nature is condensing the transparent 
air into the most enduring structures. The 
decay of animal and vegetable bodies, the 
outpourings of volcanic vapour are con- 
tinually adding to the treasures of the at- 
mosphere. The tendency of gases to mix 
most intimately, the course of rivers, the 
melting snow, the ebb and flow of tides, 
the action of electric currents, all help to 
mingle the varied elements of which the 
air consists ; so that everywhere organic 
life finds appropriate nutriment, and means 
of growth; for not only does the air contain 
substances needful for the development of 
plants, but its action upon light, heat, 
and electricity makes it the vehicle by 
which, not food alone, but the stimulus 
and power to use it are at once conveyed. 



MISSION OF SCIEXCE. 165 

E. And over all it throws the magic 
of colour and aerial perspective which 
like a descent of tongues makes inani- 
mate Nature even when most silent so truly 
eloquent. 

L. Such then is a small part of what 
we owe to the air, such a few of the j 
sublime "v^iews of Nature's operations which j 
a slender rav of science enables us to be- | 
hold. If we carrv our minds back to the i 
fabled beginning of human wisdom, science I 
first came from the stars, and it has never j 
failed to bear appropriate minds far beyond 
and above their sphery chime. Noble be- 
yond conception is its mission in the world ! 
To subdue physical elements, to make 
the mightiest power of Nature the minister 
of human will, to teach man what are the 
great realities of existence, to make all 
physical nature but a transparent veil 
through which he can discern the subhme 
workings of spiritual beings. This is a 



166 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

part of what it is destined to accomplish, 
and part of which it is now doing, and 
in the past has done. It is with such an 
appreciation of the work before him that 
a man of science should commence and 
sustain his career. In so doing he may 
meet with little honour in an age when 
coarse and vulgar interests are often es- 
teemed above the noblest truth, but he will 
have been true to himself and true to that 
majestic Being whose works he is endea- 
vouring to expound, and a reward will 
not be wanting surpassing that which all 
the dwellers in low grovelling desires com- 
bined could give. 

E. Would that science were always 
taught in such a spirit. I cannot but 
believe that to those only who feel their 
devotion to Nature"'s truth, are great dis- 
coveries allowed. 

L, And the history of science proves 
the correctness of such a view. Those 



VIEWS OF THE UXIYERSE. 167 



whose names are a beacon, o'uidino- the 
pilgrims of truth, ever were such spirits. 
To many common minds are small dis- i 
coveries of economical advantage made 
known, but to those only who realize, 
if only at intervals, a lofty ideal life are 
the sublimest views of the universe un- 
veiled. 

E Great as have been the advances 
of physical science in these days, I believe 
they are nothing to what will take place 
when a higher tone of feeling prevails. 
Even the best are contaminated by a bad 
atmosphere. The most splendent gem can- 
not put forth its full lustre or exhibit the 
finest play of colour in a murky air. 

Z. At times such scenes of ignorance 
and brutal crime and dull stupidity press 
upon our view that we could believe most 
fervently in the degeneration of our race, 
but even in the darkest gloom are some 
rays of light emanating from a higher life. 



168 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



like the phosphorescence which streams 
from the plants which grow on the roofs 
and irradiate the dark walls of some foreign 
mines. 

E. Science should not be degraded by 
its subserving to the production of wealth, 
for wealth should be the means of achiev- 
ing important good. Were the use of 
money known as well as its abuse, what 
benefits might it not confer ! 

L. Men purchase that which they can 
understand. If a pig had the wealth of 
India, it would only buy a larger trough 
and more garbage to fill it. There is no 
text which needs more enforcing than so 
to live ''as to leave it not disputable at 
last whether thou hast been a man ; " but 
if hundreds of years are needful for the 
growth of an oak, we must be content to 
wait hundreds of generations for the deve- 
lopment of man. The progress is slow 
to our finite faculties, but even now, when 



THE ASCENT OF BEING. 169 



imarinatioa exalts their yio-our, and eularo-es * 
their sphere, the golden age of the future 
mingles its glories with the reahties of the 
present. 

E. We must climb some mountain 
height in order to see the land in which 
we live, and in the world of thought 
the same process is needful. Only bv 
asjDiration and ascension do we arrive at 
truth. 

L. And '^to climb the ascent of being*' 
what assistance Nature o-ives ! Science with 

c 

cloud-piercing knowledge. Art with its 
deification of the beautiful, Love with its 
firm and unvieldiDg hold on the eternal, 
all contribute their help ; all history, ex- 
perience, and hope incite to persevere and 
promise to those true warriors, who fight 
the fight of faith with courage and de- 
votion, that they shall conquer and inherit 
a land of thought, surpassing in beauty 
the loveliest region of the East and inhabit 



170 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIIUL. 



an abiding city, grander than all the glo- 
ries fabled of Jerusalem. 

E. A country and city of thought ; for 
mind alone is eternal, and thought most 
real. 



CONVERSATION XL 



CONVERSATION XL 



Scene. — A winter landscape, 

Lj/ulph, How bright the sun gleams 
through the frosty air, sparkles in the long 
icicles, and glances with rainbow light in 
the hoar-frost that decks the trees, making 
them as lustrous as though fairy hands had 
hung their branches with th^ radiant trea- 
sures of India, or the gems of fairy land. 
Every leaf of moss glitters with its tiny 
jewels, and near the waterfall the winter 
spirits have built small crystal palaces, in 
which the fern and hound's-tongue dwelL 
The water stands in glassy columns, its 
voice is hushed, and no sound breaks the 



174 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

strange exciting and yet reflective silence, 
which is so characteristic of the time, when 
hill and valley lie wrapped in one great 
mantle of unsullied snow. 

Edith. This brilliant silence of winter is 
most touching, might I not say musical ? 
How different it is from that of a starry 
night in June, which in mute eloquence 
proclaims repose ! In this is power, an 
appeal to thought, strangely mingled with 
one to active energy. 

L, Much of ordinary occupation and 
business is happily stopped for awhile. The 
season stimulates new faculties to exertion, 
calls upon man to lead a new life, and do 
it with his might. No grovelling cares, no 
mawidsh sentimentality do for winter. It 
is time for strong hearty doing, and strong 
hearty feeling. 

Here is Winter's song : 



winter's song. 



I am a sprite 

Of Avondrous might. 

And Winter is my name. 

Now Autumn is done, 

My reign I 've begun, 

And I '11 rule till the birth of Spring. 

I 've told the snow 

To come down below 

And robe the world in white ; 

I '11 bid rivers stand 

As fast as the land, 

And I '11 seal up the springs with ice. 

With stormy gales 

I '11 shatter the sails 

And shiver the stoutest ships ; 

I '11 rouse up the waves 

From their ocean caves. 

And the rocks will I deck with foam. 

And far and wide 
The raging tide 

With fragments of wreck I '11 strew. 

Through forests I '11 sweep 

And the oaks rooted deep 

Soon shall fall 'neath the blasts 1 '11 blow. 



176 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



But I can laugh, 

And sing, and quaff, 

As well as I can frown ; 

And I love a good fire 

And a hearty old sire 

With his children round his knee. 

A cup of ale, 

A merry tale 

Of days of olden time, 

And Christmas good cheer 

To wind up the year 

With glad frolic, and fun, and glee. " 

L. A right seasonable song, with a 
comfortable ending. We should have no 
frost on the hearth or in the heart in winter ; 
and yet how many hearths and hearts are 
at this chilling season destitute of one spark 
of fire ! Want, sorrow, and crime, and dis- 
appointment keep thousands shivering in 
desolation. 

E, But let us hope, though many must 
perish in that most wretched state of a 
wintry soul, that a moral spring-time will 



A SABBATH OF EEPOSE. 177 

come and make succeeding generations able 
not only to bear, but to enjoy the winter 
that closes a well spent and successful year. 

L, There is something peculiarly solemn 
in the comparison which this season suggests, 
between the course through which external 
nature has run, and that of man. The soft 
mantling snow covers up the earth, and gives 
its blessing as it leaves it to repose. Its 
work has been accomplished, its duty done, 
the varied seasons have contributed to pour 
rich treasures in the plenteous lap of 
Autumn, and Winter is to their more pro- 
ductive powers, a well-earned Sabbath of 
repose- The physical soil has been prepared, 
and the seeds of a harvest sown, which has 
been reaped and garnered ; but what efforts 
have been made to prepare the mind and 
heart of man to receive spiritual seed and 
bear its harvest of love and hope before the 
last season of a progressive year ? If to the 
poor, Nature has given strong nerves and 



178 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



firm sinews to do the work of physical 
cultivation, to the rich have been given the 
power and the duty of the nobler cultiva- 
tion of the human soul; and what severe 
reckoning should this time suggest of duty 
neglected, and work undone ! Charity is one 
great duty of the rich — the word once was 
worthy of utterance by lips divine ; it meant 
something higher than the wisdom of angels, 
something which carried man nearer to the 
heart of God, than the grandest philosophy, 
the most universal knowledge. To be chari- 
table was to hold all men dear, to be linked 
in brotherly love to every member of the 
human race, to give every energy of mind 
and heart to diminish evil and diffuse good, 
to raise the human family from crime and 
misery to a state of aspiration and progress, 
to lead the human mind into the sunshine of 
Almighty love, where it could put forth 
blossoms whose brightness should never fade, 
and whose fragrance should fill all the ages of 



THE SACRIFICE. 



179 



eternity. This was what charity once meant, 
and a great deal more ; now it has come 
down to paying poor's rates, and subscribing 
guineas to eleemosynary institutions. The 
rich, especially among the middle classes, 
are too often separated from the poor by a 
yawning gulf, wide as that which in the 
parable divides Dives from Lazarus, — and 
the huge chasm will never close until what 
too many hold most precious is thrown in 
and sunk for ever in its unfathomable depths. 
It needs no infant in the unsullied simplicity 
of earliest life, no virgin in the peerless in- 
nocence and beauty of ripening womanhood, 
no armed knight full of noble and heroic de- 
votion, but what by many is esteemed higher 
than all these, higher than Nature, aye, and 
Nature's Creator himself — the base and sor- 
did passion for gain, the miserable conven- 
tionalities, and class distinctions, the un- 
christian and most contemptible selfishness 
and pride, upon which the trumpery dignity 



180 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



of a successful speculator is too often built. 
Aristocracy has faults enough ; and bitterly 
will it pay for them if they remain unre- 
pented and uncorrected; but the power, the in- 
fluence of a country is in the middle classes ; 
let them bestir themselves for higher work 
than that of heaping riches, for a higher 

i 

I worship than that of Mammon ; let them 
forsake a morality of selfishness, and a re- 
ligion of deprecation ; let them practise 
Christian duty, and aspire to Christian hope, 
and then a brighter era will arise. It is 
from the absorption of a people in low 
vulgar interests, from all honest aspiring 
individuality being crushed and swamped 
by vain and false conventionality that nations 
decay ; these vices belong particularly to 
middle classes, and there is in them more 
danger than in all the licentiousness of 
nobles and crimes of kings which have ever 
helped to bring an empire to the dust. The 
virtue of our day is prudence, thriftiness, — 



SPIRITUAL TEUTH. 181 

good enough in its way but not sufficient — 
let men be prodigal in goodness, and as 
thrifty as they like in all the varieties of 
vice. Our religion was of old preached to 
the poor, and it certainly has not yet come 
to be practised by the rich. 

E, May they not plead ignorance ? 

L, Yes, but whose fault is that igno- 
rance ? all the means of education are at 
their disposal, but education itself is per- 
verted to sectarian proselytism, or the pur- 
chase of a little learning of the most paying 
description. The boy learns to calculate 
interest, but he does not learn to feel the 
marvellous revelation of divine truth which 
flows from the paintings of Raphael or the 
music of Beethoven ; he does not learn the 
sacred language in which the mountains and 
the waves sing their songs of eternal praise. 
If science be taught, the memory is crammed 
with facts more or less valuable in an eco- 
nomical point of view ; little of the poetry or 



182 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



philosophy of science is inculcated, yet that 
is worth all the rest. Education, as at pre- 
sent conducted, is a failure and a perversion. 

E, Among the distant hills before us^ 
standing in clear outline, sharpened by 
contrast with the surrounding snow, is all 
that time has left of an old feudal castle. 
Centuries have elapsed since its halls were 
gladdened by the yule log's blaze, since its 
floors were trod by noble or by serf ; 
chivalry has departed, but left an ideal 
image for men to cherish, and in some sort 
to realize again. The progress of comfort 
among the poor has, no doubt been great ; 
but at this season one cannot look at these 
ruins without wishing that rich and poor 
would mix together, not as they did within 
their walls, but with all the improved cir- 
cumstances which the greater civilization of 
our own time renders possible. Rich and poor 
meet together in the house of God, and 
though unhappily the former are in snug 



COMMON FEELINGS. 



183 



pews, and the latter on uncomfortable 
benches, there is, or is supposed to be, 
one common feeling linking all. Why 
could not this be extended to art and 
science ? The music of Purcell and Handel 
thrills the poor man's bosom as strongly, 
perhaps more strongly, than that of the 
rich ; the scenes of Shakespeare, and the 
facts of science, demand neither fine clothes 
nor full pockets for their enjoyment. Surely 
men might, if they chose, find pleasures 
in which all could join with profit and 
delight. 

L, The rich pro^dde churches and gin- 
shops in the town, and churches and beer- 
shops in the country, and prisons and work- 
houses in both ; the poor man pays to some 
extent for them all, and they constitute a 
goodly heritage. I often wonder when the 
text is quoted, what w^ll it profit a man 
if he gain the whole world and lose his 
own soul whether some ever felt that 



184 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

they had such a thing to lose. I am afraid 
many have only been aware of a money- 
getting faculty, with perhaps a capacity for 
the toothache. 

E. How sad it is that amid such scenery 
as this, when such varied forms of beauty 
appeal to the senses, and suggest the noblest 
thoughts, that the peasantry should be left 
from generation to generation, untaught to 
know the tale it tells ! 

L. The squires, the parsons, the peasants, 
and the cows change, — perhaps there is the 
greatest improvement in the latter — they 
fetch more if the breed is good, and they 
are better fed ; but the advance of the 
people is miserably slow; the poor do not 
even seem to have learnt perfectly the great 
doctrine of gratitude to the rich, which, with 
subserviency to their betters, has constituted 
their principal teaching ; but, bad as things 
are, there is some prospect of amendment. 
The ice which stops the stream of improve- 



IDEAL PICTURES. 185 



ment is cracking, if not thawing. If spiritual 
winter is to stay much longer, at any rate 
there is some prospect of a little artificial fire 
to give occasional warmth. 

E, If men would, in leisure hours, let 
their thoughts and feelings have fair play, 
would suffer the beauty of external nature, 
the works of genius to act upon their souls, 
and then truthfully strive to live up to the 
ideal picture which would come floating in 
their minds, what vast strides would pro- 
gress make. Ours is an eminently religious 
nation ; but would men feel that all the 
doctrines which human ingenuity has ex- 
tracted from the Bible, all the forms which 
all manner of priests have invented or 
practised, are insufficient to save one soul 
that does not, in spirit and in truth, labour 
for the welfare of its fellow-men, a change 
would come more striking than that which 
will take place, when a mild wind's breath 
shall melt away all this frost and snow, 



186 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



and the green earth smile gladly again, to 
view the uncurtained sun. 

Z. Do you remember last winter watch- 
ing from the summit of yonder distant cliff, 
a ship'*s career, expecting every moment it 
would be wrecked — dashed to pieces upon 
horrid rocks, where no help could come r 

E. Most vividly. I shall never forget 
it ; when all but lost, they cast anchor, but 
still drifted towards the shore ; the waves 
ran to the sky, the highest cliffs were 
drenched with spray, and foam-balls floated 
for miles like driven snow ; the poor vessel 
now stood on end, reeled to and fro, seemed 
engulfed by the tremendous billows, came 
again to view, but still drifted though slowly 
to the shore, which no boat could reach ; 
the jagged rocks, when uncovered by the 
surge, looked like the jaws of some sea- 
monster, waiting for his prey. They cut 
down the masts, and then held their ground, 
but for many hours it was an anxious time. 



THE BOW OF PROMISE. 187 



so many lives depended upon a cable's 
strength ; every moment we expected that 
it wonld yield to the appalling fury of the 
storm ; a dark cloud hung on the horizon, 
behind the ship, in dismal contrast with the 
white sea foam ; more than once, when 
destruction seemed most imminent, came a 
broad rainbow on the cloud ; it was a promise 
of hope, a path down which good spirits slid 
to bid the waves grow still, and at length 
the storm abated, and the ship was safe. 

L, And sometimes on the dark cloud 
which hangs on the social horizon, come 
gleams of rainbow light, and they will prove 
as true messengers of hope as those you 
remember on that exciting day ; good spirits 
will descend on them, and bid the storms of 
life grow still. During that storm were 
I many ready to help, some fit to lead in 
rendering any assistance that might be 
possible to the imperilled crew ; but the 
rainbow had departed, its last fading hue 



188 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

had disappeared for many hours, before its 
promise was fulfilled, but it did not fail. 
Let no one hesitate to believe that human 
progress will be overwhelmed by no storm, 
will suffer shipwreck on no fatal coast : 
it may be retarded, driven out of its course 
by hostile blasts; the waves of passion, 
ignorance, and selfishness may roar around, 
but they will not destroy it ; when danger is 
most impending, it will find safety by an- 
choring on eternal truth ; a gleam of promise 
will appear on the murkiest cloud, and 
sooner or later, calm seas and fair winds 
will proclaim, in joyous accents, that Hope's 
prophecy was true. 



COXVEESATIOX XII. 



Scene. — A great city at night. 

Lyulph. Not all the bustling busy ener- 
gy of day, when thousands hurry through 
crowded streets intent on gain or pleasure, 
gives so deep a sense of the power of a great 
city, as the wizard stillness of night, when the 
huge mass lies buried in its deepest sleep. 

Edith. It has been often said that the 
most intense solitude may be felt in a crowd ; 
but when inclined to give way to lonesome 
feeling, I know of no better place than a 
great town at night. 

L. The desolation of heart is most in- 
tense under such circumstances. I remember 



192 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



in this vast city very late at night, walking 
along a great thoroughfare. The full moon 
was high up in the clear blue sky, obscuring 
by her greater splendour the attendant stars. 
The beams came straight down the street, 
falling upon the wet road which gleamed 
like a river in the cold pale light. On either 
side were the tall dark houses, giving no 
reflexion, but looking more sombre by con- 
trast with the shining road. Pile after pile 
of buildings rose in the distance, towers and 
domes stood out in bold relief against the 
sky, and all was as noiseless as a city of the 
dead. I walked on for more than a mile, 
the houses still dark, the road still shining 
with its strange unwonted light. There was 
no life abroad. The city seemed under a 
magic doom. The moon appeared to have 
sympathy and converse with the road, but 
not a gleam of light fell upon the houses. 
It was as though a more than papal interdict 
held back her rays, and wrapped the build- 



DARKNESS OF THE SOUL. 193 



ings in one great pall of gloom. I felt as 
if the walls would absorb me into their sha- 
dowy substance, or that I should be engulfed 
in the chasm between. The light that fell 
on the river-like road had not the look of 
that which falls on the brooks that flow 
through verdant banks in open fields, but 
made it seem a treacherous, unearthly stream, 
whose waters journeyed to an unknown 
world. I tried to shake off the wild vague 
horror, and looked up at the brilliant sky ; 
but it reflected no human sympathy, and 
the same cold and cheerless world was below. 
The light from the road was light to the 
outward eye alone, it was darkness to the 
soul. 

E. I wish that I had been with you, 
L, There are things which can only be 
seen alone, and this was one. Your sym- 
pathy would have snapped the spell, broken 
the interdict, and irradiated the gloom. 

E. And what did it, as I was not there : 

o 



194 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



for I suppose so strange an effect did not 
long continue ? 

L. If dark spirits prevented for a time 
the flow of human sympathy, it was a small 
thing that triumphed over them. 

E, What was it ? The passage of some 
vehicle ? 

L. It was an old woman, seated at a 
small table by some palings. Before her was 
a little charcoal fire, and some cups and 
saucers. The old woman was asleep, or 
seemed so ; but her fire burnt brightly, and 
human sympathy was present. That woman 
with her little fire, was a small event, but 
in it humanity was seen waited upon by one 
of the grandest elements, akin to the moon 
and stars whose splendour was above. In 
the ruddy glow of those embers was the sug- 
gestion, the presence of tremendous power ; 
in that old woman was a human soul having 
friendly dominion over it. The contact of 
the human heart with the external world 



THE TRUE AETIST. 



195 



seemed renewed, and through it flowed cur- 
rents of divinest sympathy, linking in happy 
union the brightness and the gloom. 

E. What a thrilling picture, made of 
apparently the poorest elements, but almost 
beyond the painter's art. 

L, There is one among us, whose genius 
long-coming ages will cherish and adore, 
now too often the scoff of the ignorant, 
instead of the delight of the wise ; he can 
so depict the meanest object, that it shall 
richly utter the sublimest truth ; he can so 
paint the humblest spark, as to show more 
plainly than Promethean legend its celestial 
birth. This man sees in matter the spiritual 
idea on which it is based, and makes it 
clearly manifest to fitting minds ; and while 
such gaze in reverence upon his works, the 
rude vulgar laugh. 

E. But under this dull stupidity and 
obtuseness are better qualities that must be 
summoned forth. The lightning sleeps in 



196 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



the cloud, light reposes in darkness, and 
they are manifest only under appropriate 
excitement. If men would but put them- 
selves in sympathy with the eternal and 
enduring, if they would with heart and soul 
love the true and the beautiful everywhere, 
they would arise and greet them. From 
every side spiritual agencies are ready to 
come. If man would walk in fervent faith 
they would surround his steps, throw light 
and flowers on his path, and sound the 
sweetest music in his ear. When Christ 
felt that virtue had gone out of him, it was 
the woman's faith that enabled it to reach 
and heal. All around is virtue ready to 
come to us if we would but let it. We 
can only give that which others can take ; 
the physical sensation of a hand grasped in 
devoted friendship is totally different from 
the common touch when no feeling is pre- 
sent. The most exquisite delights of phy- 
sical sensation come only when the senses 



THE KEYS OF KNOWLEDGE. 197 



are in connection with the highest state of 
mind and heart. Then is colour more lovely, 
melody more exquisite, perfume more sug- 
o'estive, and touch establishes a relation 
through which the electric currents of the 
soul can more completely flow, 

L. When man is in sympathy with his 
fellow man, how his faculties become sharpen- 
ed to the perception of all kinds of truth and 
beauty, which he has the capacity to enjoy. 
The connection between a wise intellect and 
a pure heart is one of the most wonderful 
things in our nature and can never be too 
often brought to mind. How much is 
revealed to babes and concealed from 
those whom the world falsely calls wise 
because they have stores of undigested 
knowledge ! 

E. Whatever keys of knowledge the in- 
tellect possesses, one master-key lies buried 
in the deep recesses of the heart. Many 
pass whole lives not knowing that it is 



198 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

there, vainly seeking to undo the golden 
lock with strange and erroneous means. To 
cherish right and noble feelings should be 
the first step of all who w^ould progress in 
real and enduring wisdom. Mere know- 
ledge of facts such as cram the memory 
of many has in it nothing that can last, 
and without a true heart there never was 
a true intellect, I will tell you a little 
tale I wrote this morning, it has some bear- 
ing upon our subject. 

Jffluntain in t\)t WLoo'ii. 

A LITTLE way apart from a great city 
was a fountain in a wood. The water gushed 
from a rock and ran in a little crystal stream 
to a mossy basin below; the wild flowers 
nodded their heads to catch its tiny spray ; 
tall trees over-arched it, and through the 
interspaces of their moving leaves the sun- 



THE FOUNTAIN IN THE TTOOD. 199 

light came and danced with rainbow feet 
upon its sparkling surface. 

There was a young girl who managed 
every day to escape a little while from the 
turmoil of the city, and went like a pilgrim 
to the fountain in the wood. The water 
was sparkling, the moss and fern looked 
very lovely in the gentle moisture which 
the fountain cast upon them, and the trees 
waved their branches and rustled their green 
leaves in happy concert with the summer 
breeze. The girl loved the beauty of the 
scene and it grew upon her. Every day 
the fountain had a fresh tale to tell, and 
the whispering murmur of the leaves was 
ever new. By and by she came to know 
something of the language in which the 
fountain, the ferns, the mosses, and the trees 
held converse. She listened very patiently, 
full of wonder and of love. She heard them 
often regret that man would not learn their 
language, that they might tell him the 



200 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



beautiful things they had to say. At last 
the maiden ventured to tell them that she 
knew their tongue, and with what exquisite 
delight she heard them talk. The fountain 
flowed faster, more sunbeams danced on its 
waters, the leaves sang a new song, and 
the ferns and mosses grew greener before 
her eyes. They all told her what joy thrilled 
through them at her words. Human beings 
had passed them in abundance, they said, 
and as there was a tradition among the 
flowers that men once spoke, they hoped 
one day to hear them do so again. The 
maiden told them that all men spoke, at 
which they were astonished, but said that 
making articulate noises was not speaking, 
many such they had heard but never till 
now real human speech ; for that, they said, 
could come alone from the mind and heart. 
It was the voice of the body which men 
usually talked with, and that they did not 
understand, but only the voice of the soul 



THE FOUNTAIN IN THE TVOOD. 201 

which was rare to hear. Then there was 
great joy through all the wood, and there 
went forth a report that at length a maiden 
was found whose soul could speak, and who 
knew the language of the flowers, and the 
fountain. And the trees and the stream 
said one to another, " Even so did our old 
prophets teach, and now hath it been ful- 
filled.'" Then the maiden tried to tell her 
friends in the city what she heard at the 
fountain, but could explain very little, for, 
although they knew her words, they felt 
not her meaning. And certain young men 
came and begged her to take them to the 
w^ood that they might hear the voices. So 
she took one after another ; but nothing came 
of it, for to them the fountain and the trees 
were mute. Many thought the maiden mad 
and laughed at her belief, but they could 
not take the sweet voices away from her. 
Now the maidens wished her to take them 
also, and she did, but with, little better 



202 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



success. A few thought they heard some- 
thing, but knew not what^ and on their 
return to the city its bustle obhterated the 
small remembrance they had carried away. 
At length a young man begged the maiden 
to give him a trial, and she did so. They 
went hand in hand to the fountain and he 
heard the language, although not so well 
as the maiden ; but she helped him, and 
found that when both heard the words to- 
gether they were more beautiful than ever. 
She let go his hand and much of the beauty 
was gone: the fountain told them to join 
hands and lips also, and they did it. Then 
arose sweeter sounds than they had ever 
heard, and soft voices encompassed them 
saying, "From henceforth be united; for 
the spirit of Truth and Beauty hath made 
you one.""* 



SYMPATHY FOR THE TREE. 203 



L. A most godly joining together which 
no man shall be able to put asunder. Has 
it ever struck you that about the highest 
truth there is no disputing? Some may 
feel it, and others may not, and the latter, 
with the insolence of ignorance, may coarsely 
deny it, but there can be no argument. One 
feels it so, and the other does not, and there 
is an end of the question. The loftiest 
truth is never circumscribed by man*'s intel- 
lect ; in proportion as his nature is exalted, 
he feels it, because he is impelled towards 
it. The deepest truths of religion and 
philosophy are made known to us by appeals 
to our sympathies. Reason has its office 
in human progress, and is entitled to its 
crown, nevertheless, not by logic, but by 
exciting man's emotional life to its full action, 
have the greatest things been done. This 
doctrine is often controverted by those who 
have no power to soar for a time above the 
region of strife and contention, into that of 



204 mXISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



everlastino- calm, and who would rather o-ain 
honour and applause by reasoning in some 
vulgar fashion, than by endeavouring to keep 
their hearts well tuned, and make their 
actions coincide in fittest harmony, and yet 
it is only when this is accomplished that 
science reveals its truth. No man without 
it, can understand so simple an event as an 
apple's fall. 

E, I hope and believe the time is fast 
approaching when mankind will not be 
satisfied ^ith a mere collection of building 
materials, which constitutes all the know- 
ledge commonly bestowed in the process we 

diraify by the name of education, but that 
d t,' tj ' 

they vvill demand a spiritual architect in the 
teacher, able to help them to rear the fabric 
of their souls upon firm foundations, and 
with spires soaring far above the regions 
of cloud and storm. 

Z. It is a neglected chapter of the eter- 
nal Gospel, and like others must be preached 



MAMMON WOESHIP. 205 

to the poor, for the rich are bad hearers 
when no money is gained by the process. 
Very much, too, may be done with women 
in all classes. Even the folly of the most 
foolish betokens a natural yearning after 
spiritual things. An enthusiastic preacher 
of any sect, however absurd its tenets, gains 
favour with them, because in that misdirected 
enthusiasm is something higher than Mam- 
mon worship. 

jE. It is said the last enemy to be con- 
quered is death. With him Mammon keeps 
company, to perish not long before, and 
when that idol is destroyed, men will im- 
mediately become the inheritors and posses- 
sors of life. We shall not witness the con- 
summation in our day, but we may have 
the satisfaction of hastening its approach, 
and may behold some larger portion than 
at present of the riches of this world offered 
at the shrine of a nobler God. 



CONVERSATION XIII. 



CO^sTEESATTON XIII. 



Scene. — Summer time — a rocky lane. 

Edith. Again we are among rocks and 
hills, again we can walk through lanes 
whose banks are spangled with blue, red, 
and yellow flowers, where ferns are waving 
from the crevices of every stone, where 
the hedges are thick with honeysuckles and 
harts-tongue, and where the tall fox-glove 
rises from mossy banks or stands like a 
sentinel on the top of the stone walls that 
separate the fields. We can look again 
on the deep blue sea and hear the strange 
talk of the sea-birds to their mates and 
young, and see the wild rocks gleam \vdth 

p 



210 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



sea-pinks, shepherd's purse, and other ocean- 
loving flowers. After dwelling for awhile 
amid the artificialities of city life, how 
refreshing it is to be again under the soul- 
thrilling and pervading influence of Nature 
and her untamed productions. 

Lyulph, Yet even here conventional 
gentility, with its gross ignorance and its 
insolent foolery, has its amount of sway. 

E, Never mind it — I am listening to 
a sea-gull, and watching a jackdaw. 

L. A much better occupation than giving 
heed to the follies of man. 

E, I did not say so. That is misan- 
thropical ; but there are other fellow-crea- 
tures beside the human ones that I would 
now attend to. Hark to the corn-crake 
making its queer noise. His lady love, I 
suppose, thinks it most eloquent music. 

L. Doubtless, and I am afraid few 
wiser sounds are made by human lovers 
to the object of their affection. 



MYSTICAL MATHEj\IATICS. 211 



E, That is misanthropic again. See, 
here are wild flowers. Are they not a 
poem, a philosophy? One, two, three, 
four, five petals and another wdth a double 
five. Here is what Sir Thomas Brown 
would call some of " the mystical mathe- 
matics of Heaven.'*' These flowers bring 
his stately writings to our memory, and 
how w^ell their deep melody harmonizes 
with the sound of the ever-wonderful har- 
monies of the mighty sea. 

L. The relations of number to deep 
and hidden truth are only one instance 
of the universal law that all departments 
of learning, all trains of thought, should 
tend towards the eternal. 

E, What a significance wild flowers 
have, more than the tamed productions of 
the garden ! They seem Heaven's own mes- 
sengers sent straight to man to bear glad 
tidings of universal and undying love. They 
spring up in form and colour just as they 



212 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



list, and sometimes seem to emblem what 
education should allow to us poor mortals. 
We are either shut out from the beautiful 
things our world contains, or else they are 
all explained to us, and we have an autho- 
rized version of what a robin red-breast 
said, or should have said, to a hawthorn 
bush upon which he hopped. There is 
either obstruction or too much teaching, 
explaining all heart and soul out of man's 
nature and God'^s mighty and beautiful 
creation. 

L. It is a great thing to be an inter- 
preter of Nature and its divinity. It is 
easy enough to become acquainted with 
the words that recognized authorities have 
taught upon the matter, easy enough to 
get one human licence or another to teach, 
but quite a different thing to have the 
real faculty of interpreting the gift of 
prophecy. The external facts of physical 
science are to be gained by industry, and 



I" — 

OBJECTS OF EDUCATION. 213 



from ordinary books or teachers ; but the 
spiritual facts which they image, demand the 
devotion of a life. There was a glimpse 
of an important idea when the Talmudist 
said that the commentary was above the | 
text. Every one has his own commentary, , 
and wishes to thrust it upon others. Edu- | 
cation is looked at chiefly with reference j 
to this end, and it is not uncommon to | 
find men commencing by a profession that i 
education should be a leading out of natural ,' 
faculties, and endinpf with a decision that i 
it should be the means of fixing certain i 
interpretations upon the mind. | 
E, In all this there is a want of the i 
highest and deepest faith. Men find it easy i 
to have faith in cobwebby systems of human 1 

invention, but difficult to believe well in ! 

I 

Nature and eternal realities. 

L, In this scene as in others, Nature 
freely places her treasures before all. Here 
are the wonderful combinations which de- 



214 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

light the artist, build up the airy frame- 
work of the poefs dream, or suggest to 
the philosopher those trains of thought 
which conduct him to the perception of 
pervading law. Here have these things 
been manifest for ceaseless generations, that 
may have passed them unheeded by, but 
they have been, and will be, ever ready 
waiting for man ; so must our means of 
education be arranged. Our treasures of 
art and science, our choicest flowers of 
literature, must be poured forth in the same 
profusion and in the same spirit of love 
and faith. The rich talk of educating 
the poor, but they must first educate them- 
selves. Ts it because they know the name 
of a cucumber in Latin, have seen with 
mere physical eyes the painting of Raphael, 
and wear clothes of the newest fashion 
that they are competent to teach Is it 
because they pass their time in a vain show, 
making trumpery distinctions of rank and 



PHILOSOPHY OF THE DAY. 215 



station without regard to wherein consists 
the true dignity of human nature, that 
they are competent to teach ? Truly our 
respectable classes need much mending be- 
fore they can expect the mantle of prophecy 
to fall upon them. 

E. We hear much about the philosophy 
of this nineteenth century of ours, of its 
great wants and deep tendencies, but among 
its greatest needs is a high tone of public 
feeling. We are absorbed in indi^ddualism 
while we develop no individuality. We 
look at every question as a matter of expe- 
diency, and a chivalrous pursuit of principle, 
whithersoever it may lead us, is unknown. 
And yet, how contrary is all this to the 
free spirit of Nature ! If men would listen 
to the bidding of winds and waves, to the 
voices of clouds and trees, they w^ould be 
more nobly impulsive and less calculating 
and sordid. We want some of the fervent 
spirit in which brave nations have united 



216 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



to defend their liberties and put tyrants 
down, we want some of the chivalry of 
the crusaders, some of the moral energy 
of the Reformation in Germany. 

L. And we have discontent and efforts 
for a few physical ameliorations, all calcu- 
lated at a money value, and yet beneath 
this surface there are better things in view^ 
and they will one day rise to the top. 
When the waters are clear we can look 
down to a mazy depth, and there discern 
much that is true and beautiful, just as 
from this coast we can look down through 
the quiet w^ave and see the rocks glittering 
with ocean flowers and bearing many a 
beauteous shell. 

E. It seems in the deep waters of social 
life, as in those of the sea, we should not 
be able to get the beautiful things they con- 
tained, if it was not that storms threw them 
on our shores. We can discern much, as 
you say, when they are clear, but their 



TROUBLED WATERS. 



217 



greatest treasures are only given np after 
agitation. The waters must be troubled 
before they heal. 

L. I am afraid our waters are as restless 
as the ocean, so they should at least be 
always healing. Human progression is a 
strange thing, such oscillations backwards 
and forwards, it is often most diiiicult to 
see that any advance is made. 

E, We are too exclusive in our theories. 
We expect the same opinions and circum- 
stances to suffice in all cases, and we see 
no progress when it takes place in a way 
different to our wishes or anticipation. 

L. We seek to explain all phenomena 
by one set of causes, while Nature is infinite 
in resources and ways of T^^orking. Let us 
survey this district. Those granite heights 
were thrown up by volcanic convulsion — 
here are strata of what were superincumbent 
rocks, overturned and distorted by that event; 
but there are others thrown into positions 



218 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

widely different from that in which they 
were first placed, by causes which have no 
relation to the force of subterranean fires; 
they have tumbled down, because under- 
mined by the waves ; others again have 
slipped, because small streams have cut them 
through, taking away their support ; while 
other waters, filtering through the earth, have 
softened the thin seam of sand and clay 
on which they rest. Here we have many 
causes producing the same result, in this 
single landscape. So it is in the world of 
mind. 

E, I will tell you a day dream I had 
this morning. Its elements came floating 
through my brain like the fleecy clouds we 
have so often watched from this spot and at 
last collected together into definite shape 
as we have seen them do. 

L. Tell it. Like them we shall find it 
full of beauty and meaning. 



Ef^t i&U Of Jfaiti^. 



Once there was a simple people who 
dwelt in a beauteous land. The vices of 
civilization were unknown amongst theme 
and not less the coarseness of savage life. 
The earth yielded her increase with moderate 
labour, and the richness of their flocks made 
the country to flow with milk. It was a 
small island, ocean-girt, and protected from 
the fury of its storms by lofty rocks. On 
all sides, and in every spot, flowers sprung 
abundantly beneath its genial sky, spanghng 
vriih their brilliant colours the green mea- 
dows and the dark red rocks. The clouds 
gathered around it in wild fantastic forms, 
often looking like the strange creatures of 
an earlier world : but seldom did they in- 
tercept for more than a moment the loving 
glances of the brilliant sun, and when evening 



220 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

came and they spread their air-built tent on 
the borders of the ocean and opened their 
golden curtains to receive him after his 
descent from the heavens, the moonbeams 
played on the foaming rocks, flashed on 
the dank sea- weed, and danced on the gentle 
ripples of the dark green sea. They pene- 
trated deep into its leafy woods and fell 
through the chequered branches upon the 
brooks, in broken streams of silver light. 
Dark and rich were the shadows which 
they threw, and when you looked at the 
clear lake, deep in a dell among the moun- 
tains, it seemed as though heaven was re- 
peated upon the bosom of the earth. 

The faith of the land was simple, and 
every evening on the hill tops sweet incense 
burnt on altars of stone, and the cloudy per- 
fume was wafted for many a mile over the 
translucent wave. When the almost level 
sun shone through the crests of the clear bil- 
lows that rolled upon the shore, the sacrifice 



THE ISLE OF FAITH. 221 



of sweet spices, and fragrant gums was placed 
upon the altar, and when his broad orb 
touched the water its flames were kindled. 

The people believed that deities dwelt 
in every part of their happy land ; deep in 
the recesses of the sea, some abode in pearly 
chambers, canopied with ocean flowers and 
lulled to rest with the murmur of the waves 
and the sweet voices of the water nymphs ; 
and it was a terrible thing when these were 
angered, for then they spoke in whirlwind 
and storm, and mingled in fearful confusion 
the waters and the sky. 

Others lived in forests, haunting brook 
and waterfall, loving the song of birds, the 
bleating of young lambs, and the sonorous 
bellow of the broad headed oxen, and the 
gentle kine. Some came sailing on the 
evening breeze, and swept down the beams 
of twinkling stars, and throughout the land 
was no spot found that was not sacred to 
a spirit or a god. Evil beings they knew 



222 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



not, for they looked around them and beheld 
all was very good. Seldom did accidents 
shorten their days, diseases were unknown, 
and death came as a gentle visitor to 
extreme old age, telling of youth renewed 
among the mansions of the gods. At length 
it came to pass, that a strange folk came 
sailing across the ocean, and they brought 
a new religion which they assured the good 
islanders was much better than their own. 
" Cast down your altars,'' said they, their 
fragrance is useless and an abomination to 
us; worship no longer deities in sun, 
cloud, and flower in the forest, or the 
salt sea wave, — in all these there is nothing 
but dead matter obeying its laws; there is 
but one God, and he dwells a long way off 
beyond the remotest star. He made all 
these things, but is not within them. Once 
He came down and visited our earth, but 
now He must be sought as we direct. 
Believe our creeds, practise our ceremonies, 



THE ISLE OF FAITH. 



223 



and after death you will be conveyed by 
angels to his everlasting habitation." 

We cannot do all this," said the islanders, 
" for you ask us to receive many strange and 
improbable things ; moreover, we know of a 
certainty that the immortal gods do dwell 
in our isle. Have we not been told so by 
our fathers, and in the night season have 
not their voices been heard ?" Thereupon 
there arose strife between the strange people 
and the islanders, and the former sought to 
prove by fighting that their creeds were 
true. But after much contention, one arose 
and said, " Ye are both wrong." To the 
islanders he said, hath there not always 
been a tradition among you that there was 
a mystical union among the gods ? have not 
many of them various attributes, different 
persons, and yet are ever worshiped as one 
god ? You err in not seeing plainly that the 
gods of the ocean, the mountain, the forest and 
river are only manifestations of One being ; 



224 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



and the strange folk are wrong also in 
teaching that the true God dwells a long 
way off remoter than the stars, and denying 
that he comes in the beams of sun or planet, 
glows in the rich tints of every flower, and 
lives in the billows of the purple sea ! In 
all these He dwells, but beyond these and 
beyond all the universe, for all creation is 
but a little thing to the great Spirit ' who 
made and loveth all.'' If you would reach 
the truth you must add your knowledge 
to that of the strange folk, and then both 
will gain. Fail not to see Divinity in 
every ocean wave, in every burst of light, 
and in every rustling branch ; but remember 
that all these are finite and can neither con- 
tain nor measure the Infinite and Eternal. 
Kindle your sweet sacrifice on your altar 
at even if you will, but chiefly live the 
noblest- lives of men, and then you will 
never want a revelation of the Divine, for 
you will have only to look within. ''^ 

IZZ ^ 



SYNTHESIS OF TRUTH. 225 



L. You have pictured an ''island of 
the blest;' 

E, But the waters were troubled. 

L, And they healed. There is a good 
lesson in the moral of your tale. We must 
put all the truth together that any have 
ever learnt. Even the darkest ages have 
contributed their round to the Jacob's lad- 
der that connects our earth with heaven. 
Christianity, when rightly understood, pre- 
sents itself as the synthesis of all that 
heathen times endeavoured to reach. It is 
a purification and completion of the wis- 
dom of the past, not an antagonism, as some 
would teach. 

E, Antagonism and division seem ruling 
spirits of our age. We struggle for union 
and seek the wells of contentment, and find 
only the waters of strife ; but let us have 
comfort and remember that when the waters 
are troubled it is only that they may heal. 



CONVERSATION XIV. 



CONVEESATION XIV. 



Lyulph, I will tell you a story suggested 
by the valley of the stream. Let us go to 
it. Twihght is approaching and the place 
will help the tale. 

Edith. We shall see the daylight lin- 
gering in the clear sky above the precipitous 
sides of the deep ravine, long after evening's 
shades have fallen on our path, and while 
you are talking the bats will be playing 
about us, and the stream will be singing 
its vesper song. It is a good place for 
a tale that harmonizes with it, but at this 
hour it would be difficult to listen to any 
other. 



230 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



L. I will not promise a very exact har- 
mony. The impressions previous visits made 
on my mind enabled me to give certain 
floating ideas " a local habitation," and yet 
I shall describe nothing that really resembles 
it ; nevertheless, this scene had much to do 
with the reflections which gave rise to the 
story. I will now tell it as told to me by 
these rocks and hills. It was their evening 
story and dififers in many respects from what 
they say in broad day-light. 



There was once a land where the priests 
had no faith : they performed all the cere- 
monies of religion, told all the old stories 
of the gods, and received their full share 
of the good things of the worid, as here- 
tofore, but their religion was dead and there 
was no Hfe in anything they did. And the 



THE SACRED LAKE. 



231 



people of that land grew discontented and 
some believed nothing, and walked in divers 
evil ways, and others believed in herds, 
flocks, merchandise, and gold, which they 
gave all their diligence to increase, and they 
thought only of being wealthy and having 
dominion over their fellow men. Now it 
came to pass after a long time that some 
inhabitants of the land took council too-ether 
and said, " Behold now we have no religion 
and no gods, for they whom our fathers 
worshiped are dead, if indeed they were 
ever alive at all and not the fancies of a 
distempered brain. Let us go forth in 
search of a religion and a God, for never 
was a state great that did not dedicate its 
worship to some mighty power able to pro- 
tect and cherish it." Now while they were 
deliberating one appeared among them and 
said ; Forty days' journey across the wil- 
derness, and through the dark forests, is a 
valley among the mountains, very precipitous 



232 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

are its sides and so lofty that they shut 
out the light of day ; huge rocks are at its 
entrance, and rough with blocks of broken 
stone is the path that winds through it. 
No tree waves its branches across the dark 
stream that rushes through the midst, and 
in which the stars flash with inconstant 
light, nor is any moss upon its banks, neither 
any sound of bird nor beast, for it is a valley 
of desolation. The quick waters pass by 
without any noise, and when they strike 
against a stone a misty spray is thrown 
into the air, but no sound is heard, for it 
is a valley of silence. Seven days'* journey 
up the valley of Desolation and Silence is 
the source of the mysterious stream, a small 
lake, girt round with jagged and tremendous 
rocks, and fed by slender brooks that descend 
from the eternal snows that crown the sum- 
mit of the lofty mountain. When the clouds 
are rent the eye can soar upward through 
the deep immeasurable blue ether, but far 



THE SACRED LAKE. 



233 



beyond its ken stands the top of the moun- 
tain, and npon it is built the everlasting 
Throne of Heaven. Whosoever reaches the 
lake and looks steadfastly in its waters shall 
behold the image of his God, and the rites and 
services of religion shall be revealed to him 
on its shores. If any one would seek the 
valley of Revelation, let him journey forty 
days to the east of the city, and then he 
shall find a raven sitting upon an ash-tree, 
and she will guide him to its gloomy gates. 

Then the people wished to ask questions 
of their unexpected visitor, but he was gone 
from among them. And they drew lots who 
should go forth in search of the valley and 
its wondrous lake ; and it fell upon one of 
the elders of the city who had made much 
money, and thought nothing so good as gold. 

He journeyed forty days without much ad- 
venture, and came to the raven sitting upon 
the ash ; and the raven arose and flew slowly, 
and he followed her, and at last she perched 



234 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



on a distant rock at the foot of the moun- 
tain, and when he came to the spot, the 
raven croaked thrice and flew away. Then 
the elder found himself at the entrance of 
the valley. He looked back towards the 
city, and the sun was shining brilliantly and 
bright clouds were careering through the 
joyous sky, and on every tree were birds 
carolling and making their untaught and 
touching melody. Then he looked before 
him down the valley, but not far could he 
see through the thickening gloom, but dis- 
cerned huge masses of cold grey rock dimly 
looming through the shade, and saw the 
foaming billows of the silent stream. His 
heart almost failed him, but he felt a secret 
impulse that urged him on. The further he 
penetrated into the valley, the deeper grew 
the gloom ; and in the dimly flashing water, 
he beheld, as it were, torn and scattered frag- 
ments of pale starlight. He turned his eye 
upward, and the heavens were almost black 



THE SACRED LAKE. 



235 



and studded with the stars which moved and 
changed as he advanced. There vras no 
wind, and not a sound met his ear : even 
his own footsteps fell silently on the hard 
and rugged rocks he trod. When he judged 
bv the chano'ino' stars that seven davs and 
nights had passed away, there stood before 
him a on-eat wall of miditv rocks, over which 
fell in a broad sheet, and casting up much 
spray, the waters of the silent stream. He 
sat down on a rock, and looked up at the 
craggy height from which the river fell, and 
wondered how he should be able to ascend. 

At length he savr rough unhewn steps, and 
with much toil he got up them, and reached 
the shores of a small lake girt round with 
stupendous crags, which rendered further 
ascent impossible, and gave a wild and fear- 
ful aspect to the scene. He looked up, and 
through a rent in the clouds he saw the 
mountain towering to the skies, but in vain 
did he endeavour to behold its summit. The 



236 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



snow on its lofty sides stood like a pillar of 
dazzling light amid the dark blue sky, and 
round it clustered the planets and the stars. 

He looked stedfastly into the water of the 
lake, and a mist seemed to rise from its 
bosom, which caused him to sink down upon 
the bank in a deep sleep. As he slept, it 
seemed that the curtains of the mist drew 
away and suffered him to behold the surface 
of the lake, in which he saw reflected a 
splendid city, in the centre of which was a 
mart, where all manner of rich produce was 
bought and sold. In the midst of the mart 
was a throne of ivory and sandal wood, over- 
laid with fihgree work of gold, and blazing 
with a thousand gems. On the throne sat 
an idol whose face was of furbished gold, 
and whose limbs were clothed in a tissue of 
rubies and pearls. The eyes flashed like 
carbuncles, and the mouth was of great size 
and constantly open. The idol had a crown 
upon its head, and instead of a sceptre a 



THE SACRED LAKE. 287 



large gold key, upon which was inscribed 
in all the languages of the earth, " This is 
the key of life, and of the gates of Heaven.*" 

Throughout the city the poor worshiped 
the rich and served them with fear and 
trembling. The rich worshiped the idol 
that was set in the midst, and every morn- 
ing each one brought the hearts of poor men 
and cast them into the mouth of the idol ; 
and he who cast in most prospered for that 
day, and for him the golden key opened the 
palaces of life and heaven. 

The wanderer asked to see these sacred 
abodes : he was told that no mortal could 
behold them ; but he was conducted to the 
gates, and they were of pearl, and had emerald 
locks. 

While he was gazing at the beautiful 
gates, there came a party of the spirits of 
men who had just died, and they were 
taken before a judge, who inquired how 
much money they had made upon earth. 



238 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

The richest was received with much honour, 
and for him the idol allowed the golden key 
to open the gates of Heaven. 

Some were conducted to the mart and 
told to finish there the work of wealth; 
others who had made nothing on earth, were 
told their good deeds were of no value, and 
would not pass current in the land of spirits ; 
and they were given to be slaves to the rich 
men, who took their hearts and cast them 
into the idoFs mouth. 

Then the wanderer awoke and heard voices 
saying, " Mammon is the true god, and gold 
is the key of life and heaven.**' When he 
returned to the city, he told these things to 
the elders, and there was much rejoicing 
among the rich men of the city, and they 
grew richer every day, and built altars to 
Mammon, and sacrificed the hearts of the 
poor. 

Nevertheless there was some anxiety to 
know what the joys of the rich man's heaven 



THE SACRED LAKE. 



were, and many thought that the old man 
ought to have contrived to look through the 
pearly gates. And it came to pass that they 
determined to send another traveller, who 
should endeavour were it only to get a peep 
through a chink ; but there was much diffi- 
culty in finding one bold enough to go 
through the valley of Desolation and Silence. 

Now in order to determine who should go, 
they cast lots again, and the lot fell upon a 
valiant soldier, a captain of the bravest band, 
who forthwith set out upon his journey. He 
found the raven, and journeyed up the silent 
valley, and came to the rocky steps, and 
ascended to the mysterious lake. He too 
beheld the mountain towering out of sight 
in the clear blue sky, and saw its crown of 
shining stars. Before him rose the mist, and 
he sank on the shore in a deep sleep. The 
mist drew aside like the curtains of a tent, 
and he beheld a mighty warrior seated on a 
splendid horse. The armour of the warrior 



240 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



was black, and over the helmet was a regal 
crown. In his hand he held a mighty sword, 
which he waved towards all corners of the 
earth, and it sprinkled the nations with 
blood. Upon the blade was traced in cha- 
racters of flame, " The god of battles is 
omnipotent, and the sword opens the gates 
of heaven.*" 

Then came officers and troops flushed with 
victory ; and they poured the blood of the 
vanquished at the warrior''s feet, who re- 
ceived them with honour, and for them the 
sword opened the gates of heaven, which 
were of iron and brass, but the soldier-pil- 
grim was not permitted to look through 
them. 

Then he awoke and heard voices saying, 
The god of war is omnipotent, and the 
sword prevails over earth and heaven.**' 

Now when the soldier returned and told 
his tale, it was heard with murmuring, and 
the rich men would not believe it. Never- 



THE SACRED LAKE. 241 

theless the fighting men received it, and 
smote many of the rich and took their 
wealth. Moreover they built altars to 
the god of war, and every day they 
poured blood upon them. And there was 
strife between the worshipers of the two 
gods. 

At length a priest arose and said that he 
would go and bring back a true account of 
the religion and worship which ought to 
prevail in the land. So the priest went and 
found the raven, and was conducted to the 
valley and ascended to the lake. He also 
looked up and saw the mountain with its 
snow and stars, but the summit was far 
beyond his ken. Then the mist arose from 
the lake, and the priest fell asleep. The 
mist seemed to float over the water of the 
lake, and gradually assumed the form of a 
stately temple. In it were windows of the 
richest colours, and great store of sculpture, 
and the most entrancing pictures. Solemn 

R 



242 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

music rolled through the building, and priests 
in robes of velvet, adorned with lace and 
gold and gems, performed a stately sacrifice 
and walked in long procession through the 
aisles. As they went along they trod on 
the necks of the prostrate crowd, and they 
chanted, " High and mighty is the god 
of priestcraft, terrible to his enemies, and 
giving to the priests alone, the key of 
heaven.'^ 

And then came crowds of people, and 
they brought their wealth to the priests, 
who waved it before the altar, to a terrible 
idol, surrounded by dark sulphurous clouds, 
and then enjoyed it themselves. Then the 
pilgrim priest awoke, and voices said, 
" Serve the priests, for they alone have 
the key of heaven.'' He felt much grieved 
that he had not been allowed to look 
into heaven, but went his way home, and 
prevailed much with the people, and drew 
away the greater part from the gods of 



THE SACRED LAKE. 



243 



money, and of war, for he blessed the 
banners of the soldiers, and the gains of 
the dealers, whenever they presented him 
with a share of the spoil, and allowed them 
to impute the attributes of their own deities 
to the one he revealed to them. But there 
were still unquiet spirits in the land, and 
these were the poor, who had no part in 
the heaven of the rich man or the warrior, 
and who could not afford to offer much to 
the priest, and likewise many learned men, 
who passed their lives in reading the volume 
of the stars, contemplating the bowels of 
the earth, and studying the properties of 
minerals and herbs, and who felt strong 
misgivings as to what religion ought to 
prevail in the land. 

At length one of these set out, telling 
neither the priests, nor the rich men, nor 
the soldiers, whither he was going, for 
all of them, in their hearts, hated the 
philosophers. 



244 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

Now the philosopher had a little child, 
and she went with him to the valley of 
Revelation, which they reached in the same 
manner as those had done who had gone 
before them. They looked up towards 
the summit of the mountain, but far 
beyond their view it was lost in a blaze 
of the purest light, which made even the 
brilliant stars look pale. The mist arose, 
and they both slept on the bank of the 
lake. 

An angel came to the philosopher and 
showed him the foundations of the world, 
and led him from star to star, explaining the 
mysteries of every constellation. The angel 
showed him no idol, but made him feel the 
spirit of the universe, and told him that 
" Wisdom and knowledge are the keys of 
heaven/' 

An angel came also to the child, and she 
felt a warmer love glowing upon her than 
she had ever known before, every angry pas- 



THE. SACKED LAKE. 245 

sion seemed to melt away, and the happiest 
and kindest forms gathered around, and the 
child awoke, hearing voices singing, The 
pure and simple of heart shall enter the gates 
of Heaven." 

When both awoke, each told the vision 
of his dream, and the philosopher pondered 
the matter well in his heart, and behold, as 
they journeyed home, the valley was full of 
life, and glad sounds arose from it. At the 
entrance was a beautiful shape, who thus 
addressed them, " Marvel not at the result 
of your visit to the Sacred Lake, or at the 
tales of those who have gone before you, few 
can see more in its mysterious waters than 
the reflexions of their own hearts ; know- 
ledge and wisdom are indeed keys of heaven, 
but to these must be added faith and love. 
The heaven of the rich man, of the warrior, 
of the priest, and of the philosopher vary 
in value, and in the depth of their disap- 
pointment, but when wisdom and knowledge 



246 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

are joined to faith and love, be it in the 
bosom of rich or poor, priest or philosopher, 
to him shall the true and eternal Heaven be 
opened by the Lord of Life." 



CONVERSATION XV. 



CONVERSATION XV. 



Scene. — A large and lofty hall^ dimly lighted 
by two candles on a table in the centre, 

Edith. This is a fine place for thought ; 
we can summon here in this misty twilight all 
scenes through which we have passed. The 
dark oak panelling grows unsubstantial in 
the distance, we feel we are not caged in 
with hard materialism, but that our souls are 
free, and the elements obey them. 

Lyulph. And yet it is a different freedom 
from what we feel on mountain or moor. 

E. Less of action and more of reflexion. 

L. How delightful it is to let imagina- 
tion bring floating in this pleasant gloom 



250 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



its airy pictures of the things we have 
seen, with bodily vision or the spirit's 
eye, blending the beauty of many lands, 
towers and palaces, spires and domes, 
green waving forests, rivers glowing in sun- 
set light, lone grey moors veiled in morn- 
ing'^s mist, mountain peaks faintly redden- 
ing with the first promise of day, the 
mighty ocean in dreamy slumber basking in 
the warm glow of summer noon or flouting 
its vexed waves in the murky sky, when 
its face is torn by the lightning of the 
winter storm. 

E, They come and go as you describe 
them, but what do they leave behind ? 

L. Faith. 

E, That is indeed the end of wisdom, 
the great lesson of the universe. 

Z. Nature will not allow man to intellec- 
tualize himself into infidelity. Every grand 
prospect, every burst of melody carries con- 
viction to the heart that truth is eternal. 



VERITIES OF FAITH. 



251 



man immortal, destined for infinite ages to 
grow nearer to the life divine. 

E. Surely the heart is a higher judge of 
truth than the reason. We believe, more 
because we feel than because we think. 

L. They greatly err who think the lo- 
gical is the only form of proof. Every 
faculty of the human mind — and who shall 
limit their number ? — is capable of weigh- 
ing evidence and receiving proof. Let 
the keenest intellect soar to its sublimest 
heights and when it has found some great 
truth among the loftiest alps of reason, if it 
sinks deeply into the heart of the discoverer 
he will be able to bring it home to the 
hearts of others, not as a discovery of science 
but as a verity of Faith. 

E. It is a good thing to say I think, 
better to say I know, but best, I believe. 

L. Men always believe who come freely 
into contact with Nature. It is the brick 
and mortar life of trade and towns that so 



252 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



often doubts : but this will not always be. 
It is among cities that intellect and science 
thrive, and they should and will lead to 
faith. Man should never rest content with 
knowings he should also feel. When truth 
is only mastered by the intellect, it is still 
external — no part of the ME : to become 
so it must be felt and loved, 

E. We often hear of ignorance as the 
mother of faith, but it surely cannot be true. 

Z. Far from it — ignorance, knowing little, 
cannot believe much ; but we must not 
forget that many know much, who could 
not cast it into a logical mould. 

E. That is the condition of woman's 
knowledge. 

L. And of man's highest wisdom. 

E, How many have believed and loved 
before they have understood.'^ 

L. It is happy that man can do so, 
or else he would be destitute of the sub- 
limest truth. 



SYMPATHETIC BELIEF. 



253 



jE. But though you exalt man's sympa- 
thetic belief, you would not undervalue 
his intellect. 

L By no means, for it is a god-like 
thing, but it shines brightest when the 
heart is pure. Truth is many-sided, and 
man should be myriad-mindedj never con- 
tent with bringing one faculty to bear on 
one side. 

E, How Nature's teaching is like that 
of genius. It is grand, soul-convincing 
aflSrmation, inspiration rather than reason. 

L, It is proof to man's highest faculties. 
IT IS, I AM, are above reason, — syllo- 
gism cannot touch them. Away with the 
absurdity of, — I think, therefore I am ; I 
AM is its own proof, or rather precedes all 
proof, and to it any one may append, if 
he pleases, therefore I think. 

E, Such ideas could not have occurred 
to a woman. Women believe, while men 
try to know. 



254 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



L, A jnst distinction, hence it is not 
good for either to be alone. Thought is 
the outpost, — feehng, the centre and citadel 
of our being. 

E. To be gained not by logic, but by 
love. 

L. The grandest alchemy is to transmute 
knowledge into love, — thinking into being. 

E. The sublimest arguments are ad- 
dressed to our beings not to our thinking. 
In this way is our own immortality made 
known to us, it comes as naturally to the 
soul as dew-drops to the leaf, if it does 
not rather spring from it as the flower 
from the stem. 

L, Perhaps both illustrations are true, 
for it is not in one way only that a great 
truth is known. See how the moonlight 
comes many-tinted through the stained 
window ; he would have a sorry and dis- 
jointed perception who could see only a 
single colour. 



EEFLECTED LIGHT. 255 



E. There is something very beautiful 
and wondrous in this bringing the colours " 
down from the window, and tintino- both 
walls and floor. It is like shadows of 
heaven falling upon earth, and penetrating 
our inner homes. 

L. In sun-light they would fall strong, 
sharp, and clear, showing an affinity with 
acting and knowing, while the moon makes 
them fall upon us, like pale soft dreams 
whose affinities are with feelino- and beino*. 

o o 

E, The moon's reflected light sinks 
deeper into the heart than the original 
splendour of the sun. 

L, So does the light of Nature pene- 
trate deepest into humanity when reflected 
by genius. The full sun makes all things 
strongly objective^ they are to be known 
without^ the moon does not show the 
hard realities of matter, but makes the 
world like the fabric of a dream, which 
the physical senses can scarcely touch, while 



256 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



the soul can deeply feel. In nature the 
light of the sun is converted by reflection 
into the light of the moon, so in man 
should the light of science be changed 
into the light of love. The sunlight strongly 
exhibits individualities and differences, the 
moonlight reveals the outlines of masses 
rather than those of separate objects, so 
science leads to particulars while the 
grandest generalizations are embraced by 
love. 

E, That is most true, for genius ever 
exhibits heartfelt sympathies and its pro- 
fessors feel truth while the mere men of 
science are groping in search of it. 

Z. Look at the shadows on the wall. 
Those vine-leaves are so clearly defined 
that we cannot mistake them, others are 
just distinct enough for us to guess what 
object causes them, while some defy con- 
jecture. 

E, Shadows are so beautiful that I do 



SHADOWS OF TEUTH. 257 



not wonder at their being sometimes pre- 
ferred to realities. 

L. Many deserve it, for surely the 
shadow of good is better than the reahty 
of evil. 

E, Shadow not only leads to thought, 
but seems to have some mystical affinity 
with thought. 

L, Our opinions are shadows of truth, 
and when the mirror of our mind is clear 
and rightly placed with relation to the 
object it reflects, we become acquainted 
with its real forms; but very often the 
mental shadow is as unintelligible as some 
that the moon now throws. 

E, The shadow must be a correct picture 
although we cannot comprehend it. 

L, So we may see correctly, when we 
view a figure with such fore-shortening that 
we cannot tell what it is. Properly to 
appreciate any object, we must stand in a 
right position, and this is as true in the world 

s 



258 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



of thought as it is in the world of matter, 
and yet how constantly do men content 
themselves with looking from the ground of 
reason at things which can only be rightly 
seen from the ground of faith. 

E. Flattering themselves that reason 
looks at realities, while faith is occupied 
with shadows. 

L. Well is it for man that truths, them- 
selves invisible, send forth their shadows. 
Earth is the shadow of Heaven, Time of 
Eternity, and the soul receives its grandest 
illumination from the shadows of Eternal 
Being. 

E, Ourselves are shadows, though divine. 

Z. There can be but one independent 
reality, all else is shadow, but not less 
real. 

E, Strange that truth should be at once 
shadow and light ; the shadow of a great 
rock in a weary land, and a bright lamp in 
the crypts of error. 



THE rUXCTIOX OF GENIUS. 259 

L. Light and darkness are opposite poles 
of one existence. Twofold is the function 
of the world's teachers, — they bring at once 
light and shadow, as the sun at once sheds 
splendour on the flowering earth, and causes 
the shadow of the cloud to fall upon the 
tender leaf. 

E, Many rejoice in shadows who could 
not endure the objects which cause them. 

L, True, and many can see shadows, 
who could never behold the antecedent 
forms. Many to whom Nature reveals no- 
thing, can worship her shadow in the pro- 
ductions of genius. The business of the 
philosopher, the poet, or the artist, is to visit 
regions beyocd the reach of ordinary men, 
and by faithful shadows to make them 
known, even as the traveller in distant 
lands, assisted by photographic art, brings 
home the shadow pictures of the lands he 
has seen. 

E. Why does a scene exert no power 



260 MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



on minds which are enkindled by its image, 
in the painting and the poem ? 

L. The light of the sun makes visible, 
the light of the soul makes beautiful. The 
poet and the painter project their shadows 
of Nature, by the light of their own souls, 
upon the minds of other men. Mankind 
are like dwellers in a cavern, and only 
when some Promethean spirit kindles a 
heavenly flame, do they behold the sparry 
gems that fret its roof. The precious 
crystals, in which spiritual things are to 
be discerned, the magic mirrors which 
reflect forms unseen by common eyes, have 
their existence in the mind of genius, and 
there only must be sought and found. 
There are true consents between planets 
and elements, between stars and flowers ; 
the golden threads of analogy unite all, 
weave all into one great web of universal 
being ; to perceive somewhat of whose em- 
broidered pattern all faculties are needful ; 



INTUITIVE KNOWLEDGE. 261 



some portion of the design floats more or 
less distinctly in the imagination of gifted 
minds, and forms the shadowy type ac- 
cording to which reason and experiment 
build the edifice of science. The loftier 
the tone of mind and the more harmoniously 
its powers work, the more knowledge be- 
comes an intuition, an inspiration, the less 
is it dependent upon experiment or logic, 
which are not so much for discovery as for 
verification of truth. 

E. Must not experiment always teach 
truth ? 

L. It teaches fact, and facts are true ; 
but their value, meaning, and position in 
the universe it does not teach, and these 
belong to the higher phases of truth, or to 
that which pre-eminently is the truth con- 
cerning them. 

E. Much as we may love the pictures 
of imagination, must we not confess that 
we behold them in a misty hght? 



262 MINISTEY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 



L. They must be very short-sighted 
who see no farther than they can see 
clearly. Crude random fancies deserve not 
the name of imagination, and whether or not 
there be one faculty or organ peculiarly its 
own, the highest, the only true imagination, 
is not when one portion of the soul is 
exercised alone, but when all faculties work 
together in that mood, and fancy is the 
key-note of some great harmony of mind. 

E. It seems like an orchestral music, 
in which each instrument brings its melody, 
and the idea of the composer is developed by 
the harmony of the whole. 




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